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Copyright, 1870, By Augustin Daly. 


ALFRED ADRIANSE, who regarded marriage as an episode 

and found it fate Mr. D. H. Harkins 

CAPTAIN LYNDE, a friend in need, indeed, and a friend in 

the way Mr. Louis James 

EEV. HARRY DUNCAN, successor to the Martyrs, Mr. Henry Crisp 
DE WOLF DE WITT, an excellent authority on the manage- 
ment of wives Mr. Wm. Davidge 

TEMPLETON JITT, Esq., of the New York Bar . . M*. James Lewis 
MR. BURRITT, Ex-Policeman and Private Detective, 

Mr. W. J. Lemoyne 

PAM, his Partner Mr. John Burnett 

JUDGE KEMP, a relic of the last generation .... Mr. D. Whiting 

DR. LANG, late of Bloomingdale Asylum Mr. Geo. Devere 

JIM, with a new system for Naturalizing aliens . . Mr. Owen Fawcett 

RICHARD, Adrianse's Man Mr. G. Godfrey 

CHRISTMAS, one of the Emancipated . ...... . Mr. F. Chapman 

GUINEA, another of the same sort Mr. W. Beekman 

Wedding Guests, Visitors, etc. 
MRS. TEN EYCK, a mother of Society, who has provided well 

for her two daughters Miss Fanny Morant 

• MISS LU TEN EYCK, who made the Newport match, 

Fanny Davenport 
. MISS FANNY TEN EYCK, who got the Best Catch of the Sea- 
son after all Clara Morris 

GRACE, "Our Niece," for whom we must find somthing after the 

dear girls are provided for Linda Deitz 

FLORA PEN FIELD, a Bud of the Florida Groves . . . . Mary Cary 

MRS. KEMP, the partner of the relic Mrs. G. H. Gilbert 

KITTY CROSBIE, who was satisfied with her own " way," Ida Yerance 

MOLLY, the Nurse Nellie Mortimer 

NELLIE, the Help Kate Claxton 

JENNY Louise Volmer 

ALFRED, a child Gertrude 


SCENE. — Mrs Ten Eyck's City Residence in Waverly Place. " Given in 
Marriage ! " 


SCENE. — Alfred Adrianse's Summer Lodge on Long Island ; with view 
of the Sound by Sunset and Moonlight. "The Strife Begun ! " 


SCENE.— Mrs. Ten Eyck's Manor up the Hudson. "The Husband 
TAKES the Law in his Own Hands ! " 


SCENE 1.— St. Augustine, Florida. The old Spanish Town. "Two Pur- 
SCENE 2.— The old Convent Ruins. " The Law Retaliates ! " 


SCENE.— Elegant Parlors at De Witt's in New York. "THE DI- 


Scene. — Parlors at Mrs. Ten EycFs, on Waverly Place, near the 
Park. The rooms old-fashioned and. hmig with pictures. Fur- 
niture old-fashioned, but well preserved. Arch c, throttgh 
which, from the L., all entrances from, the exterior are made. 
Doors R. and L. Time: afternoon; date: just after the Sum- 
mer season at the Summer resorts, c. from i,., at the rise of 
curtain, Nellie enters, followed by the Rev. Harry Dun- 
can. She takes his hat and gloves, while he speaks. 

Duncan, [l.] No one visible ; but all is bustle up-stairs, eh ? 

Nellie. Yis, sir — yer riverince, I mane. 

Dun. [l.] You may announce me as soon as you like, 

Nel. [r.] Who tO; sur ? Shure, Missus is gone out. 

Dun. What, gone out, and her daughter to be married in a 
couple of hours ? 

Nel. Something forgot, sir, and the darling, Miss Louise, is 
up-stairs, sir, a-fitting on the dresses. Oh ! she do look beautiful, 
to be shure, and Miss Fanny is getting on her bridesmaid's dress, 
sir, and she do look beautiful as well. Miss Crosbie and the other 
bridesmaids, they — 

Dun. Do look beautiful, too ? 

Nel. Yis, sir, that they do 

Dun. {^Looking at his watch^ Well, they'll be in plenty of 
time, and — \_Looks slyly at Net'] Miss Grace, how about her 
dress ? 

Nel. \_Despairingly.] Oh, sir ! she's not to be bridesmaid. 

3Irs. Ten Eyck. \_Outside.] Back in excellent time. We'll 
have them in here, Edward. 

Nel. Missus is back. \_Retreats to r. Dun. rises.] 

Mrs. Ten Eyck enters, c, followed by Captain Lynde. 

Mrs. Ten Eyck. Place them here, Edward. [Capt. places a 
very few parcels on table, R.] Ah, my dear Harry ! I knew you'd 
come ; you couldn't wait for us. [She puts a couple of parcels on 
table as she sjjeaks.] 

Cajitain. [Languidly.'] Hello! reverend father. 

Dun. [fleets 3£rs. t., c, shakes hands.] I wanted to make 
one more call in the old way before I received dear Miss Lu at 
the church. 


31r8. T. So good of you ; isn't it, Echvard ? \_She crosses to 
NeL, R., gives her bonnet and shawl. Nel. takes them off, r. 1 e.] 

Capt Very thoughtful ; but the clergy are always doing the 
right thing. 

3lrs. T. Confess now, Harry, you feel a little nervous at the 
idea of performing your first marriage service ! l_Re-crosses to 

Dun. I do. I'm afraid I shall shake so, that the whole thing 
will be invalid. 

Mrs. T. Oh, you boys — you boys! But the dear girls were 
all determined you should officiate, and it is so fortunate you 
Avere ordained just before darling Louise was engaged. 

Capt. \^Down, c] Ye — es ! He was at the seminary getting 
ready for Lu, while she was at Newport getting ready for him. 

Mrs. T. {^Tapping him with her fan.'] Irreverent fellow. 
Don't mind him, Harry. • 

Dun. Oh, I don't ! I never do. 

Capt. [c] Only a little pleasantry. Ministers are so grave, 
they want brightening up. 

Dun. Has the happy bridegroom, Mr. De Witt, arrived yet? 

Mrs. T. Oh, he'll not be here till the last moment, of course. 
He never hurries. 

Capt. Lucky fellow. He waited, and y(5u see what a good 
thing he got by it. Widower for twenty years, and now he has 
the finest woman, except her mother, in New York. 

Mrs. T. Did you ever — what a blunt fellow. For shame ! 

Capt. Oh, I'm privileged, you know. I'm out of the way of 
all the proprieties. Too poor to get married ! It's understood, 
I'm to have my privileges on that account. 

Mrs. T. {^Crosses to c] So you can, you great baby. Now, 
excuse me, while I devote the rest of the day to my darling. I'll 
send Grace down to entertain you. Poor Grace ! 

Dun. She's not to be a bridesmaid. 

Mrs. T. You know? Oh, well, she'll be a bride herself yet. 
We must do something for Grace, Harry. 

Capt. [Going up.] When our two daughters are provided 

Mrs. T. [Laughs.] Oh, you monster ! How disagreeably 
you tell the truth. But you must help me, Harry ; you know, 
Grace is my i)Oor sister's only child. I will be a mother to her ; 
and we must get her a real good husband. 

Dun. [Eagerly.] Yes ! 

Mrs. T. [c] Somebody w^ith money. 

Dun. Oh ! 

Mrs. T. Think over all the rich bachelors and widowers in 


your church. You can manage it ; it shall be a secret between 
us. Where are those parcels? Oh! \^ Gathers them up.'] 

Dun. [^Recovering.] Oh, by the way, I forgot — I met an old 
friend of ours to-day, 

Mrs. T. [Carelessly.] Ah! 

Dun. I think he will call on you. 

Mrs. T. [Same^ To-morrow, I hope. Not to-day. 

Dun. It's Alfred Adrianse. [Sits R. of L. table.] 

Mrs. T. [Suddenly turning at c, and drops one of the parcels, 
which Capt. picks up.] Ah ! 

Dun. He has just returned in his yacht from the Mediter- 

Mrs. T. [Seriously.] Alfred Adrianse returned! [Coming 
down, R.] 

Dun. Met him this very morning. Impulsive, quick, petu- 
lant as ever, and a bachelor still. [Sits, L.] 

Mrs. T. He said he would call to-day ? 

Dun. Yes, and he inquired particularly after Fanny. 

Nellie enters, c, and goes towards r. 1 e. 

Mrs. T. [As if pre-occupied.] We shall all be most happy to 
see him. Ah, Nelly ! [Nel. bows, crosses to her.] 

Nellie. Yes'm ! 

Mrs. T. Tell Miss Fanny to go to my room and wait for me. 

Nel. I will, m'm. [Exits, r. d.] 

Mrs. T. [To herself] Alfred Adrianse returned ! 

Capt. [Presenting parcel.] You dropped this. 

Mrs. T. [Takes it] Thank you, Alfred. [Exits, R. 1 e.] 

Capt. [Winks to Dun.] You heard her call me Alfred. 
That's your friend's name. Who is he ? The duchess seemed to 
be struck by your news. 

Dun. Oh ! Alfred Adrianse is an old story. 

Capt. Old story ? Why, I know all the old stories of this 
family. Yet, stop, it was while I was at the West, eh ? 

Dun. Yes. He was supposed to be in love with Fanny. 

Capt. And what were Fanny's sentiments? 

Dim. She wasn't allt)wed to have any sentiments on the sub- 
ject, as she was merely a school girl then, and his attentions were 
very properly discouraged, so he swore he'd never marry, bought 
a yacht and disappeared in it. 

Capt. Is he rich? [Gets L., back of table.] 

Dun. Sixty thousand a year. 

Capt. Young man? 

Dun. Yes — but as eccentric as the — as a badly made sky- 


Capt Happy Alfred! On sixty thousand a year, a man 
can be all fireworks. But I tell you what, — his time has come. 

Dun. What do you mean? 

Capt. Didn't you notice the Duchess's face at your news? 
She'll make a match for him. 

Dun. Not with Grace — Miss Grace. 

Capt. Grace ? pooh ! No, his original flame, Fanny. [ Goes 

Grace enters, c, from r. 

Grace. Didn't I hear some one say "Miss Grace?" 

Capt. \^Points to Dun.'] For further particulars inquire next 
door. [ Goes up and sits in rear parlor.] 

Grace. [Doivn K.] Aunt Clara said you were here, and that 
I must entertain you in her place. 

Dun. [l.] I should have thought you were all too busy. 

Grace, [c] Oh, I've done my share. Cousin Lu looks so lovely 
and so bright, such a contrast to cousin Fanny, who looks so 
lovely but so grave. But, then, wedding dresses make everyone 
look lovely. 

Dun. Particularly to the happy man whose love is crowned 
by the marriage. 

Grace. [Sic/hing.'] Aunt Clara tells me that love need have 
very little to do with it. 

Dun. You don't believe that ? 

Grace. I' don't want to. She says it's enough to respect a 
husband. But I think respect is like a cold luncheon in a dark 
dining-room, while love is like a delicious picnic in the woods. 

Dun. [^Flattered.] Could a young wife and husband live on 
picnics, do you think? 

Grace. Of course, in the summer, but there's the winter. 
[^Sits at table, L.] 

Dun. Yes, thei'e's the winter. l_Aside, R.] It's no use, she's 
thoroughly imbued with the selfish principles of her aunt ; she'll 
marry a wealthy sexagenarian, and be satisfied. Women of the 
world are all oysters, they look out for some old wreck to fasten 
on and vegetate. 

Grace. But for my part, unless I loved I'd never marry. 

Dun. [Eagerly.'] Nor I! [Coming l.] 

Grace. I would be content to wait. 

Dun. [Taking a chair a little distant.] So would I, but not 
too long. 

Grace [SigJis.] Most young men are so poor. 

Dun. [iSits R. of L. table.] Yes, it's a disease incident to youth. 


Grace. My idea is this : A young lady needn't close her heart 
to a young gentleman who loves her, because neither of them is 

Dun. [^Drawing a little nearer.~\ My sentiments exactly. 

Grace. They can love on, and hope on. 

Dun. I will. I — I mean they can. 

Grace. And when, in the course of years, he has made his 
way up — 

Dun. {_Drawing nearer.^ Your aunt will come down. 

Grace. [^Starts up.^ Gracious ! I'm not speaking of myself. 
[^Crosses to R.] 

Dun. No ? 

Grace. No ! 

Dim. Oh ! 

Grace. I'm speaking of some abstract person. 

Dun. [^Sighs.^ I wish I could find an abstract person. / 

Grace. Oh, Mr. Duncan, you oughtn't to think of such things. 

Dun. Why not ? 

Grace. Aunt Clara and I have been talking about you, and 
we have made up a little plot to find you a real nice girl some- 
where in your congregation. 

Dun. l^Coldly.^ Indeed! Thank you, and was this your own 

Grace. No, it was aunt Clara's. 

Dun. [^Turns away-l Aunt Clara takes a great deal of trouble. 

Grace. She is all heart. [^Slowly and meaningly, crosses to 
hini.^ She has told me your secret, too. 

Dun. My secret ? 

Grace. Yes, that you are going to find for me some old 
bachelor or wddower, who — 

Dun. That will do, Miss Grace. Your aunt's secrets are not 
kept long. \_Goes to R., and sits. Bell heard.^ 

Grace. \_Going to L., hurt tone.'\ So it is true then! I wouldn't 
believe her at first ! The hypocrite ! I actually thought he took 
an interest in me on his own account. Aunt is right. I've no 
business to love. 

Capt. [^Rising at hach^ Hullo, I say, here's the bridegroom, 
whew ! how he has improved. Been at his glass all day, no 
doubt? \_Comes down to c] Why, Grace, what's up? As an 
old friend of the family, I can't see that dull face on such a 
happy day. [Dun. goes up to R. Capt. looks from one to the 
other, theii] They've been at it, too, just as I suspected. AVhat 
a fool the man is — not a dollar, nothing but his pedigree to boast 
of. Must break this up. \^Puts his arm about Grace, and in 
baby tone.'\ Come, my little Gracie, it mustn't pout any more. 
{_Takes her up to L.] 


Diin. [Comes down.'] If I wasn't a clergyman, I'd hate that 
officious rascal with his " friend of the family ways." [ Gets to R.] 

Nelly enters, c, ushering in De Witt. 

Nellie. I'll tell 'em you've come, sir. 

De Witt. Thank you — stop— [G^u-es her box from pocket.'] 
Take this, my child. 

Nel. For me, sir ? Oh, thanks ! 

De W. For you ? No, for Miss Louise. Quick, run up with 
it. [Nel. ea:t7.s, c. a??c? R. De W. sees of Aers.] Ah! Good day, 
good day. 

Capt. [Grace goes upT] My dear boy, how splendid you 
look. \Hhakes him by the hand.] Glad to see you. Lu is dress- 
ing — soon be down. [ G'oes up to Grace, l.] 

De W. Thank you. [Aside.] How infernally familiar he is. 
"Lu is dressing," as if he had just come down from helping her 
to do up her back hair. [To Dun., who is down R.] Well, 
reverend sir, my fate is soon to be in your hands. Is this the 
first time you ever married a couple? [c, crosses io table L.] 

Dun. I regret to say it is. 

De W. Don't regret it. Don't be nervous. If you forget 
anything, I'll help you out. I've been married before, you know. 
[Takes Dun's ann, and goes mj^.] Ah, Miss Grace. [Up to l.] 

Lu Ten Eyck. [r. c, outside.] Oh, where is he, where is 
Harry ? 

De W. That's Miss Louise's voice. 

Grace. [Coming down between the two gentlemen.] Oh, dear, 
she's coming down here. 

Capt. Yes, and she's calling for the reverend Harry. [Crosses 
to him.] ' 

Grace. [ Coming forward, to De W.] She thinks there's no 
one here, but him and me. Run away, Mr. De Witt, you musn't 
see her. [Riins to him.] 

Capt. Yes, conceal yourself. Pantry — no — under the piano. 
[They put him up, r.] 

De W. [Flurried.] The deuce ! [All up stage, r., but Dun.] 

Lu enters, c, from r. 

Lu. Is he here? Oh! There he is. [Down to Dun., who is 
crossing to L. c] Oh, Harry, I know I'll never go through with 
it, and I want you to tell me all I'm to do, and when I'm to do it, 
and — [As she goes for chair sees De W.] Oh, you are here? 

De W. [l. c, coming to c] My dear Miss Louise. [Capt. 
comes down to r.] 


Tai. [c] Oh, don't look at me, it's not proper — go away. 

Capt. Go away, sir ! Calm yourself, my dear ! 

De W. Where shall I go ? 

Lu. Oh, you needn't go away, sit down and turn your back, 
[ Taming herself round in circle and self -admiringly. '\ Well, how 
do I look, now you've seen me ? [ Crossing to Cop^.] 

De W. [ Q> stage to R. c] Charming ! Charming ! 

Lu. Not you. I mean the captain, he's got such good taste. 
[ To De TF.] Why don't you do as I told you ? [De W. up to 
K, table, and stfe.] 

Grace, [l. c] Oh, Lu, don't be foolish. 

Lu. [c] What do you know about it — were you ever mar- 
ried ? 

Grace. {^Sighing.'] No ! 

Lu. \_Crossing to L. corner.'] Then don't interfere — take up 
the train a little ; so. [Grace assi'sfe.] Now, how does it do ? 
[ Walks over towards De W. and passes him,, c, without looking at 
Aim.] Not too long, eh ? 

Capt. \_Glass to eye.] Not a bit. 

Lu. [^Doivn to Capt] Now mind, sir, you've seen me two 
hours before it's time. 

Capt. IBows and kisses her hand.] I'm deeply sensible of the 

De W. l^Aside at r. table.] If that fellow dares to show him- 
self at my door, after I'm married, I'll have it slammed in his 
face. \_Crosses, c. Lu and Capt. go to Dun., who is up k. 
Grace joins them.] 

Mrs. Ten Eyck enters, r. c. 

Mrs. T. Why, Louise, I'm shocked. How could you — Oh, 
Mr. De Witt, \_Shakes hands] what spirits she has. How lovely 
the dear child looks. [Emotionally.] To part with her takes more 
than common fortitude, Mr. De Witt. 

De W. [r. c] True, and you bear it in an uncommon man- 
ner, Mrs. Ten Eyck. 

*Mrs. T. [l. c] It is our duty to yield to the affections of 
our children, and when Louise's ideas were once fixed, I had 
nothing to do but give way. 

De W. My dear madame, I am under eternal obligations to 


Mrs. T. Come, daughter, we must repair this little inadver- 
tence, by retiring at once. 

Lu. [r. c, between Capt. and Dun.] Yes^ ma ! — well, good- 
bye all, till we meet at the wedding march. [To Dun.] I 

' 12 DIVORCE. 

won't forget, now. [To Capt.'] Oh, you tease. [Demurely, when 
led off by Mrs. T.] It isn't long to the hour, Mr. De Witt. 

De W. My dear Miss Louise, so soon to be mine ! 

Lu. Ah ! [iSighs quizzically, looks back at him, exits, R. c] 

De W. I believe she does love me, and if she does, she may 
do what she likes. 

Mrs. T. [l. c] Just a little temper, dear girl. [All come 

De W. [r. c] Temper is an excellent quality, ma'am. It 
gives a thousand opportunities for the most delicious thing in life, 
making up after a quarrel. It serves to keep impertinences at a 
distance, when they become distasteful to a husband [Looks at 
Capt.l, and it adds new beauty to a pretty face. 

Mrs. T. [l. c] My ideas most admirably expressed. It is 
what I have tried to tell dear Fanny. 

Grace. [Doivn R.] And why Fanny, aunt? 

Dim. [Near her.~\ Hush, that's another of her secrets. 

Capt. [Seated l. of table.] I understand that, Mr. — Mr. — 
'pretends to forget] Mr. Adrianse had quite a temper of his own. 
"Mrs. T. looks suddenly at him penetratingly.] 

De W. Mr. Adrianse! Ah, a friend of the family ? 

3frs. T. I hope so ; he was once. I felt for him the affection 
of a mother, but he couldn't have his own way, and so, — well 
you see Fanny was but a child, then, and I had to tell him she 
was too young; then he told me I had wrecked his life, and away 
he went to China or somewhere. 

Capt. Now he brings the wreck home again. [Bell heard.] 

De W. [Slowly crosses to Capt.] Perhaps we had better re- 
pair him thoroughly, and find him a mate for his next voyage. 

Dun. [Aside to Grace.] Vulgar old fellow. 

Mrs. T. Poor Alfred, I hope his health has not suffered by 
his distress of mind. 

Dun. He was in tip-top spirits when I saw him this morning. 

Mrs. T. I fear it was only feigning. 

Nellie enters, l. c, with card. 


Nellie. [Handing it] Gentleman in the reception room, 

Mrs. T. Alfred Adrianse. I thought so — show him up here, 
Nellie. [Exit, Nel., l. c] 

Capt. Now let us see if he is reduced to a skeleton. 

Grace. For shame, captain, how can you be so unfeeling. 
[Mks. T. whispers to Grace, and she exits, R. 2 E.] 

Capt. Oh, we fellows who dare not fall in love, may laugh at 
those who can. It's a toss-up who has the best of it. 


Alfred Adrianse enters, c, preceded by Nellie, who exits, c. r. 

Mrs. T. ^Meeting him.'] My dear Alfred, how glad I am to 
see you. 

Alfred. Thank you, Mrs. Ten Eyck, I have looked forward to 
this pleasure for a long time. 

3Irs. T. Be as you have always been, like one of my children. 
You see Harry. [^He crosses to r., shakes DuN.'s hand heartily.] 

Dun. [r.] How do you do, again, Alfred ? 

Al. [To 3frs. T.] To think Harry would ever be a church- 
man ; why we used to box together, at college, and he was never 
without a black eye. 

De W. [l.] That fitted him for wrestling with the evil one. 

Mrs. T. Allow me, Mr. De Witt, Mr. Adrianse. You know 
Captain Lynde ? 

Al. I have not the honor. 

Mrs. T. [r. c] True — he was fighting the Indians on the 
prairies, when — 

Capt. When Fanny was at school. 

Mrs. T. I want you to become acquainted, I know you will 
like each other. I don't know what we should ever do without 
Edward. {^Crosses to him.] 

Al. Delighted, I'm sure. 

Capt. Most happy, I'm sure. 

Al. \_Low to Du7i~] Who is he ? 

Dun. [Same.] Nobody ! Butterfly ! 

Al. Butterfly! More of a wasp, I should think. 

Capt. [Starts to go c] I'm for the smoking room — who 
comes ? 

Dun. I'll keep you company. 

De W. And I, for I want to talk with the reverend father. 
[All three go up and stop c, looking hack at AL, who is joined 
by Mrs. T.] 

Dun. Looks splendid after his travels. [ Goes up.] 

Capt [ Takes out his cigar-case and offers to Dun., who declines.] 
Bet you ten to one his next journey will be his wedding tour. 
[Offers to De W., who declines.] 

De W. Rather young to be married, eh ? Man wants to be 
more settled. 

Capt. [Takes out cigar, puts up case.] Wish he'd do it! 
Man with sixty thousand a year must give good dinner parties. 
[All exit, c. and l.] 

3Irs. T. [l. of R. table.] Now that we are alone, my dear 
Alfred, let me assure you again that the news of your arrival is 
the best I have heard for at least two years. Your call is a token 
of forgiveness, is it not ? 


Al. [r.] I forgive ? Why, it was you I offended, and- 1 have 
come back to act more like a man, to ask your pardon, and to 
say that whatever becomes of me, I shall feel that you have 
always acted right, 

Mrs. T. Surely, you have no thought of leaving us again. 

Al. In ten days I go to Corea. You know I have nothing to 
do now but to look for sensations. 

Mrs. T. Oh, how disappointing. I hoped I should find in 
your company some solace for the loss of my daughter. 

Al. IHesitatingly.'] She is to be married to-day? 

Mrs. T. Yes. 

Al. [Confused.'] Of course, it was foolish for me to call, but 
I did not know. You see, I only arrived last night. 

Mrs. T. Exactly. 

Al. I heard about it first at the club. 
\^ Mrs. T. The dear girl was the belle of Newport, and only her 
first season, too. 

Al. Then she left school ? 

Mrs. T. Last winter. 

Al. [Aside.'] It is Fanny, then. 

Mrs. T. Mr. De Witt /ell in love the instant he saw her. 

Al. De Witt — that was his father who was here a moment ago. 

Mrs. T. [Biting her lips.] No, that was the bridegroom him- 

Al. What, that old gentleman ? 

Mrs. T. [ Trying to smile, but embarrassed.] ' Oh, love is blind, 
you know. Besides, the dear girl aspires to be a leader in soci- 
ety, which is impossible without wealth ; and that, marriage must 
give her. You are so candid, Mr. Adrianse, you see you force 
me to be so, too. 

Al. I beg pardon. I did not intend to wound you. But it 
seems so like a sacrifice. Poor Fanny, she must have greatly 

Mrs. T. No, Fanny has not changed. She is the same fool- 
ish, romantic thing as ever. Romantic as lovely, my dear Al- 
fred. "No, mamma," she often says to me, "since I left school I 
have seen no one I could love." So ridiculous, you know. 

Al. Then, in spite of these sentiments, she sacrifices herself to 
Mr. De Witt for position. 

Mrs. T. [Rises.] Sacrifices herself to Mr. De Witt ! [Aside.] 
He thinks it is Fanny. [Aloud.] Sacrifices! Alfred! 

Al. [Rises'.] You are surprised, but I have the right to 
speak, now that she can never be mine. 

Mrs. T. Well, then, what interest can you now have ? 

Al. This — that I never ceased to love her, that I came back 
determined again to ask — 



Mrs. T. Stay, Alfred. In honor I can hear no more. 

Al. Why not? 

ilir.s. T. [l.] Because you are laboring under some strange 
mistake. Because it is Louise who is to be married to Mr. De 
Witt. Fanny's heart is still free. 

Al. [r.] Fanny not to be married ! I thought, of course, 
hearing that Miss Ten Eyck was to be married, that — 

Mrs. T. You thought, of course, everyone must love Fanny, 
because you — but there — {^Puts her hand to her mouth.^ 

Al. i_Eagerly.'\ Finish the words — because I love her. I do, 
deeply, sincerely. 

Mrs. T. Hush, you impetuous boy. You are almost as bad 
as she is herself. [Sits R. of l. tahle.l 

Al. You think me impetuous ? Well, I am, even reckless. 
I came to New York to stay, but when I heard that Fanny was 
about to be married, I resolved to remain but two days, then to 
sail for Corea. Half doubting my reception, I called, as I 
thought, for the last time. 

Mrs. T. Why, you strange boy. 

Al. I love Fanny still, and as you can forgive anything in 
me, I ask for her again. 

Mrs. T. ^Affecting surprise ] My dear Alfred ! 

AL I know you don't want me to have her ; you refiised me 
once. But now or never. I won't marry anyone else. 

3Irs. T. This is so unexpected. 

Al. You must give me my answer. 

Mrs. T. But I must ask Fanny. 

Al. Let me see her? 

Mrs. T. \_Rises.'\ No, I must speak to her. It is two years 
since you met; you are almost a stranger. Two years ago 
she was but seventeen, and childish impressions fade so soon. 
\_Crosses to r.] 

Al. Tell her then I love her ; that she shall go with me to 
Corea, or all over the world. 

Mrs. T. And if she wishes to stay home? 

Al. I'll sell my yacht, I'll do whatever she pleases. I'll join 
Harry in the smoking room and await your reply. [ Going up L. ] 

Mrs. T. What now? 

Al. [Returning.'] I've given ordei's to have the "Hope" 
ready to sail day after to-morrow. You say you like me, but 
you don't seem to trust me. If you do, let me marry Fanny. 

Mrs. T. I don't know how to manage boys, I never had any. 
I suppose the way is to let them do as they please ; go, you self- 
willed fellow, I'll send for you. 


Captain appears, c. 

Al. My happiness is with you. {^Ahout to go^ Do let me 
ask her? No? then plead my cause as though it were your own. 
[Sees Capt.'] Don't tell that party, will you? 

Mrs. T. Who? eh! Edward, why he's as harmless as a 

AL Never mind. This is between you and me. 

Mrs. T. Enough, it's our secret. \_Siis at R. table.'] 

Al. [ Going out and shaking hands xvith Capt. without stopping.'] 
Smoked your cigar already? [^Exits, c. and l.] 

Captain. Ya-as — what's the matter? [To Mrs. T., comes 
down.] Popped for Fanny? 

Mrs. T. [r.] Don't be so disagreeable — what if he has? 

Capt. [l.] Knew he had soon as he shook hands. He don't 
like me, and he wouldn't shake hands unless he was so nervous 
he didn't know what he was doing. 

Mrs. T. You spoilt fellow! Still I suppose I ought to put up 
with everything from you now. Fanny was your favorite, and 
here she is asked for. 

Capt. And so you noticed it, did you? 

Mrs. T. [r., advancing.] Oh, I have eyes ; but you have 
behaved admirably; you knew it was impossible, and so you 
were content to be only a friend. 

Cajit. It's all owing to your admirable manner of teaching 
me how hopeless it was for a man with nothing to marry a girl 
with nothing. 

3Irs. T. Thanks, my dear Edward, you are indeed a man of 

Capt. And now let's call her. [ Goes to R. D.] Fanny ! 

Mrs. T. What are you doing? he'll hear you. 

Capt. Oh, he won't get jealous if I call his wife, will he? 

Mrs. T. [Stage l.] But he's not married yet, remember that. 

Fanny enters, d. r. 2 e. 

Fanny. Well, here I am. [Crosses to c] 

Capt. [ Takes her hand.] Come to the altar of duty and be 

Mrs. T. [Stage L.] Edward, you are carrying this too far. 

Fan. Why are you so impatient, mamma? [Capt. panto- 
mimes in a comical way that a proposal has been made for her.] 
What is all this mystery? You are too funny. 

Capt. [Mock, dramatic] She will explain all. [Goes up 
and off, L.] 


Fan. All what? [^Comes over to Mrs. TJ] 

Mrs. T. My love, the greatest surprise is in store for you. 

Fan. Nellie told me about it. 

Mrs. T. Nellie told you ! 

Fan. Yes, that Alfred had called. \_Looking up c, goes up 
a little.^ Is he gonef 
^Mrs. T. No, he will remain here to-day, if you choose. 

Fan. If I choose? 

Mrs. T. My darling child, he has proposed for you. 

Fan. For me? — now? — here? 

Mrs. T. This very moment. You know his impulsive nature. 
He has come home after two years absence more devotedly in 
love with you than ever. [Sits with Fan., l.] 

Fan. But he hasn't seen me since I was a school-girl — since 

Mrs. T. My dearest he is now his own master. His father's 
death left him everything — he is most eligible; if I had toiled' 
season after season to secure your life-long happiness, my child, 
I could never have found so splendid a fortune as this. 

Fan. But, mamma — 

Mrs. T. I told him, of course, that I must consult you — that 
everything depended on your heart. I had to say that, of course. 

Fan. Of course. 

Mrs. T. He is waiting for your reply now. 

Fan. What? Without seeing me? He ought to have come 
to me first. He used to have courage enough once. 

Mrs. T. Hush, my dear, be reasonable; what answer will 
you give him if I send him here? 

Fan. I don't know till I hear his question, of course. 

Mrs. T. You silly girl, you must accept him. 

Fan. \_Tarns aivay.'] I don't know whether I love him. 

Mrs. T. I'm sure you were perfectly ridiculous two years 

Fan. [^Turns towards Aer.] I don't know whether he truly 
loves me. 

3Irs. T. I never saw such devotion — such passion, I may say. 

Fan. I wish to see for myself. 

Mrs. T. Fanny, do not throw away your hajjpiness by these 
girlish coquetries. 

Fan. I coquettish, mamma? 

Mrs. T. Then it's some romantic stuff. For heaven's sake, 
Fanny, don't be romantic — don't! 

Fan. [Bitterly.'] .Romance! I don't know what it means, 
excejjt to marry the wrong man because you love him. 


Mrs. T. I expected to hear something like that next. 

Fan. \_Angrilv.'] Have I ever said I loved anybody? 

Mrs. T. [Jiises.} Yes. This very Alfred ! Tut, tut, tut, what 
creatures you all are — whenever you should not love, you do, 
and when you ought to, you won't. — Come, come, I'm certain 
you'll like him again after you are married.* I must interfere for 
your own happiness and insist. [Fan. crosses to Mrs. T] What 
a contrast to your sister ; she marries a man old enough to be her 
father for position, and like a sensible girl is happy. I don't 
insist upon your being happy, but I expect you to be sensible. 

Fan. \_Laughmg.'] That is very reasonable, mamma. 

Mrs. T. There, I like to see you laugh. If Alfred were to 
see you now, he Avould fall at your feet. Let me call him in. 

Fan. But, mamma — 

Nellie enters, r. c. 

Mrs. T. Ask Mr. Adrianse to come to the parlor. [Nel. 
exits, R. 1 E.] 

Fan. But, mamma — 

Mrs. T. There, compose yourself. He'll be here in a moment. 

Fan. Not now, not now. I haven't seen him for two years. 
Perhaps I may not like him. 

3Irs. T. You would be sorry for that? [Fan. crosses, R, 
nods.^ After all, then, you do love him. \_Kisses her.'] There, 
let me go. 

Fan. But, mamma — 

Mrs. T. [Going'.] No, darling, I leave you to your own 

To Alfred, who enters, c. 

She is there. 

Alfred. She will receive me, then? 

Mrs. T. Have courage. I have no influence over her heart, 
perhaps some one else can find the way. [Tops his cheek and 
exits, R. cj 

Fan. {Sits, R. c] He's there, and I'm afraid to look. 

Al. Dear Fanny. \_Chair, c] 

Fan. \^At table, R.] The same voice. 

Al. [yl.</rfe.] How lovely she is in that dress, her bridesmaid 
dress. ['Stands beside her chair; aloud.'] It is two years since we 
met, but it has not been my fault. \_&its.'] 

Fan. Has it been mine ? 


Al. No, it was not yours, it was my misfortune. I com- 
menced to love you too soon. 

Fan. Oh, you must have forgotten that. 

AL To-day proves I have not. 

Fan. Two years make a great difference. 

AL \_Takes chair next /ter.] True, it has increased my affec- 
tion. I can't hide my feelings from you. Fanny, I loved you 
when a girl ; as a woman, I love you still, deeply, devotedly. 
May I speak on? 

Fan. Mamma has given you permission. 

AL Will you permit me ? 

Fan. Of course, I shall listen. 

AL Why are you so reserved ? When you were a girl — 

Fan. I don't remember half I did when I was a girl. Many 
foolish things, no doubt. 

AL You loved to hear me speak of my love, of our prospects. 

Fan. That was all silly, was it not, for a little thing like me 
to do ? 

AL It was Heaven for me ! And then you remember you let 
me give you a ring, our engagement ring, we called it. 

Fan. \_Laughing.'\ Which I took off whenever I went home, 
and put on whenever I went out. 

AL l_Tak€8 her hand.^ It's not here now. 

Fan. I took it off when you went away, for good. 

AL Because you were resolved to forget me. [Drops haiid.'] 

Fan. Well, it Avould have become too small. My fingers all 
had to grow, you know. It's a pity, isn't it, we get too big for 
all those things of girlhood, even for its love. 

AL No, the love can grow with us, as mine did. Don't tell 
me that yours is a thing of the past. 

Fan. What can I tell you, when I've had no time to think? 

AL Do as I do — never think. Trust your happiness to me. 
I will leave mine in your hands. 

Fa7i. And yet you hardly know me. {^Giving both hands.'] 

AL I am sure you are the one destined to make me happy. 
I never loved any one else. I went away hating everybody. I 
don't know why I came back, except to see you once more, and 
then leave New York forever. I thought once I had forgotten 
you, but now I feel that I can't be happy without you. I promise 
you'll never regret it. Do say yes. 

Fan. And you choose to take all the consequences ? 

AL Yes, because the consequences will be that I shall love 
you more and more. Don't delay longer, for until you say yes, 
I shall be miserable. 

Fan. If you won't give me time to think. 


Al. You'll have plenty of time to do that afterwards. Do 
sav yes. 
'Fan. Well, then— 
Al. Yes. 
Fan. Yes ! [Al. kisses her hand impulsively.'] 

Mrs. Ten Eyck enters. 

There's mamma. 

Mrs. Ten Eyck. My darling ! 

Al. \^Pr esses Mrs. T.'s hand.'] At last I have her. 

Mrs. T. \_To Fan.] You have made me so happy, and him 

Fan. And myself 

Mrs. T. \_Cro8sesto JFan.] Don't be selfish, darling. That 
is enough happiness for one day. \_Exits, R. 1 E. Fan. turns as 
she goes. Al. runs, kisses her ha^id.] 

Al. This morning I was going to Corea, now I find myself 
in Heaven. 

Duncan enters, c. 

Harry, just the fellow I want to see. I'm to be married. 

Duncan. Everybody gets married, and I can't. When is it 
going to be ? 

Al. Just as soon as my ardent appeal can make it. A week, 
if I can't do it sooner. And you shall marry us, my boy. 

Dim. Just wait and see how I get through with this one to- 
day. It's all going out of my head. I know I'll drop the book. 

De Witt. [Outside.] All right, I'll find them. 

Dun. [Gets l. corner.] Here comes the unfortunate man 
whose fate is in my hands. 

De Witt entering, c. 

De Witt. The happy hour approaches. 

Grace entering, r., 

Grace. [To Dun^ Not gone yet? 

Dun. [Watch in hand.] I have fifteen minutes, and that 
will be just in time. 

Captain enters c. from l. 

Captain. Everybody ready ? Ah! [To De W.] Nervous, 
old fellow? [Drawing on gloves.-] 


De W. No, sir, I'm not. [Capt. crosses to l. and up."] 

Mrs. Ten Eyck enters, c. r. 
Mrs. Ten Eyck. Here we are at last. 

Lu, c. R., followed by two bridesmaids and elderly groom. 

Lu. What are we waiting for, ma ? 

3frs. T. For Fanny. 

Lu. Why, she was ready an hour ago. 

Mrs. T. Something has happened during the last hour. 

Lu. Oh, Lord, she isn't sick ! Not sick at the last moment, 
to spoil the whole thing. 

Mrs. T. No, but within the hour Fanny's condition has 
changed. She has accepted Alfred Adrianse. 

Lu. Oh, the darling. Where is she? 

Fanny enters, r. d. Lu runs and embraces her. 

Oh, you dear, delightful little thing. I'm so glad. I won't be 
so lonely, if you are married too. 

De W. [l. corner. '\ Ahem! 

Mrs. T. [l. of De W.'\ She never thinks of what she says. 

Al. [r. of Fan.'] If this were only our wedding day. Have 
pity on me, and don't delay it. 

Capt. \_Up C, at back.] Now, Fanny, go to your groomsman. 
\_Comes doivn, c] Here I am, Miss Lu. [They go up stage.] 

Fan. [To AL, who is annoyed.] Don't be jealous. I don't 
go to the altar with him for life, as I shall with you. [Fan. goes 
to groomsma7i.] 

Mrs. T. Come, we shall be behind time. 

De }V. \_Offers arm to Mrs. T.] I shall have the honor. 
{_All pair off. Grace takes AIJ s arm.] 

Grace. Won't you take me? 

De W. [Last down stage.] I'm the happiest man in the world. 

Mrs. T. And I'm the happiest mother. [Music of wedding 
march. All off towards c] 

Nellie enters, r. 1 e. 

Nellie. Oh, good luck to ye ! \_Throios shoe as they exit ] 

Quick Curtain. 



Scene. — Country residence of Alfred Adrianse on Long Island. 
Grounds in front of the house, the portico and entrance to 
which is upon the R. of the scene ; view of the Sound in the 
distance. The time is sunset deepening into evening. Three 
years have elapsed since the preceding act. 

Fanny and Grace enter from the l. 1 e., as if from ivalk. Fanny 
carries her hat in her hand. Grace wears hers. 

Fanny, [r.] So now you have the whole thing. 

Grace, [l.] I don't think it is so very serious. Your hus- 
band has merely expressed a wish that you should not encourage 
Captain Lynde's visits to your house ; every husband might do 
the same thing. One would think that Lynde still looked upon 
you as an unmarried woman. 

Fan. [ Crosses to seat, R.] I suppose no one can control Cap- 
tain Lynde's thoughts. It is time to interfere when I forget that 
I am a wife. 

Grace. Oh, Fanny ! Alfred didn't mean to hint at that. 

Fan.. [Seated, r.] He couldn't act worse if he did. What 
will people say if I begin to grow distant with such an old friend, 
and particularly such a good friend of mamma's. 

Grace. Never mind what people say ; you should think only 
of your husband, [^'ife.] 

Fan. You know nothing about it ; you have not been a wife 
so many years, or you would rebel against the slavery to which 
women are subjected by a husband's caj)rice. Time alters 

Grace. Well, you told me you had been perfectly happy while 
you were away traveling all over the world in your husband's 

Fan. So I was — so we both were, and so I have been since 
our return home; but while I was innocently enjoying the society 
of all the old friends who come to visit us, this sudden fancy of 
Alfred's comes to destroy all. 

Grace. [Looking off.] Hush ! he's coming. 

Fan. Alfred? 

Grace. [Seriously.'] No! [Rising.] 


Captain appears on veranda, smoking cigarette. 

Why does he leave everybody in the house to come out here. 

Fan. [^Laughing.'l Why — because he prefers to take the air, 
I suppose. 

Grace. Come with me to the library till Alfred returns. 

Fan. \_Elsi71g.'] Nonsense — I won't run away. I am not 

Captain. '[From portico.^ I've been looking all over for 
you — for both of you. Grace, somebody's been calling you this 
half hour. 

Grace. I'm going. \_To Fan.'] Don't stay here alone. 

Fan. Grace, you are as bad as Alfred. [/Sifs.] 

Grace. I am only prudent. [ Going ] 

Capt. \_Co7ning down.] Sorry you have to go. 

Grace. [Pettishly.] So am I. \_He gives a look at Tier, as she 

Capt. [ Throws away cigar.] Thought she'd never go. [-4foMC?.] 
Been hunting you both all over the lawn. 

Fan. Why ? 

Capt. Got a secret for you. 

Fan. A secret — what is it ? 

Capt. Just come from your mother. She's in a flutter about 
your sister Lu. Something horrible just up, and she wanted your 
advice. Gave her mine, but, as usual, she didn't seem to think 
it first-rate. 

Fan. If everybody knows it, it's not a very great secret. 

Capt. Nobody knows it but she and I. We let you in as 
Number Three. I say, can't you make room for one more ? 

Fan. What, in the secret ? 

Capt. No, on that seat. 

Fan. Oh, I'm tired, and want it all for myself. I learned all 
sorts of lazy habits abroad. There's a chair over there. 

Capt. No, I'd rather lean over this and talk. 

Fafi. As you please. 

Capt. [Leaning over back of her seat] Lu's in a heap of 
trouble. Old De Witt is as bad as ever. [iShe turns away with 
a shrug of unconcern.] Don't that interest you ? 

Fan. [ Wearily.] Oh, I've heard it so often. 

Cajyt. Yes, they quarrel every day, perhaps every hour, when 
they're at home ; but this is worse than anything yet. Rumpus 
must follow. 

Fan. Lu is very foolish. 

Capt. Can't say I think so; your mother don't. Look at 
this. [ Takes letter from his pocket.] 


Fan. A letter — from whom ? 

Capt. From your mother to a lawyer. 

Fan. What folly is this. \^Takes it.'] • 

Capt. \^Gets away, L.] Old story. When a husband and 
w'ife can't agree, they call in a lawyer to make it worse than 

Fan. But mother's lawyer is Mr. Remsen; this is addressed 
to Mr. Templeton Jitt. 

Capt. Yes, new man. Different kind of business ; Remsen, 
like a family physician, does very well for ordinary cases. When 
you want a legal surgeon, you call in Jitt ; he's an amputator. 

Fan. A what ? 

Capt. Cuts off members, figuratively speaking. Takes out a 
rib, that is, procures divorces. 

Fan. [^Iiising.~\ Mother cannot be so imprudent. It is 
shocking. \^Crosmig to L.] 

Capt. Ah ! Don't talk so loud. Give me the letter. 

Fan. What are you going to do with it? 

Capt. Send it, of course. 

Fan. Promise me not to do so until I have seen mamma. 

Capt. I will wait for your orders. But mind, not a word of 
this to Adrianse. 

Fan. And why not to Alfred ? 

Caj)t. Because, in the first place, I don't want anybody to 
think I'm mixed up" in any quarrel between husband and wife, 
and, in the next place, because your mother desires it to be kept 

Fan. But I have no secrets from my husband. 

Cajjt. This is not your secret ; will you promise ? 

Fan. And suppose I do not? 

Capt. Then I must obey orders, and mail it. 

Fan. \_After hesitating a moment, gives hack letter^ I promise. 

Cajit. \_Takes her hand.] Thanks, my dear Fanny. 

Mrs. Ten Eyck. \_Oidside.'\ Never mind, I'll find her. 

Cajit. Your mother. I'll step one side until you speak with 
her. [ Goes up and off, R. u. e., bows.] 

Mrs. Ten Eyck entering from house. 

Mrs. Ten Eyck. Ah ! there you are. 

Fan. Mamma, what is all this about Lu ? 

Mrs. T. Ask me, my love! Louise has actually gone and 
taken a step which I consider dreadful. 

Fan. But it is you that wrote to the lawyer. 

Mrs. T. [Sits on seat, r,] My dear, Louise had already writ- 
ten to him, asking him to call. 


Fan. Are matters so bad, then, between Mr. De Witt and 
her? • 

Mrs. T. They have always been bad. She has had her own 
way in everything, and yet she is not satisfied ; she says he is not 
attentive, that he neglects her! — She is jealous. 

Fan. ISmiles.'] What, of old Mr. De Witt ? 

Mrs. T. Well, my dear, these old men are only men after all. 
He was said to be a very gay widower. 

Fan. And yet you allowed Lu to marry him. 

Mrs. T. She had nothing to do with his life as a widower. 
We can't demand Sunday-school certificates from grown men, my 
dear, when they ask for our children. [ to l.] 

Fan. But surely since his marriage he has behaved properly. 

Mrs. T. I believe Louise's suspicions are all fancy. 

Fan. Who is this Mr. Jitt she has sent for ? 

Mrs. T. That is the most dreadful part of it, my love. He is 
some wretch who advertises in the papers to procure divorces 
without publicity. I thought I should have dropped when she 
told me. [Sits, l.] 

Fan. Lu is disgracing herself What is this letter which you 
have given to Edward? 

Mrs. T. I wrote it as soon as I could get the man's address 
from your sister. "My child," said I, "you'll break my heart," 
but she didn't seem to care. I've written to tell the wretch not 
to come, that everything is settled. 

Fan. That was right. 

Mrs. T. As for Lu, I've told her I wouldn't permit any more 
talk of divorce between her and Mr. De Witt. She has no chil- 
dren, and in the event of a separation the court wouldn't allow 
her enough to live decently on. Then she became worse than ever. 

Fan. \_Aside, smiling.^ I don't wonder. 

Mrs. T. [Rises.'] What did you say ? 

Fan. [Smiling^ You think of the practical results so much. 

Mrs. T. [Business tone.'] And who else is to think of them! 
I won't have her thrown back upon me with a pitiful two or 
three thousand a year, while that old wretch, her husband, dashes 
about like a bachelor with his half million of money. [Crosses to 
E.] It would all be different if she had a child, as you have ; no, 
no, when it is proper to have a separation I will manage it. For 
the present they must be reconciled, although I admit old Mr. 
De Witt is not a very delightful creature to — 

De Witt enters, r. 2 e. 

Mrs. T. Ah, my dear, dear child, where on earth have you 
been ? [Takes his arm. Fan. goes up into house.] 


De Wit. Been ! I've been sulking. 

Mrs. T. Sulking ! Why, I wanted you to cheer me up. You 
have such a youthful flow of boyish spirits, that I quite look on 
you as my son. 

De W. I'm afraid I'll have to be a very undutiful son, then, 
and run awav. 

Mrs. T. Where to ? 

De W. Home — New York. The fact is I don't seem to 
please Lu much when we're among strangers. 

Mrs. T. Please her ? And she doats on you. 

De W. She won't notice me one moment, and then blows me 
up the next. 

Mrs. T. It's her girlish nonsense. You wouldn't have her 
moping and poky like an old woman. 

be W. No, I know she's a girl. But I've been married before, 
I know how wives ought to act. [ Crosses to L.] 

3Irs. T. I believe your first Avife belonged to our generation, 
twenty years ago or so. Girls are different now-a-days, my dear 
De Witt. They have more of their own way. 

De W. \_Gallantly, R. H.] I wish they had more of their 
mother's way. 

3frs. T. [ Curtseys. Quickly.'] Thanks, but we must put up 
with them. You are so kind and indulgent. 

De W. I thought I was, but she says I'm a brute. I'm too 
phlegmatic, too quiet, too — the fact is, I'm not young enough for 

Mrs. T. Oh, De Witt ! How can you ! You'll tell me I'm an 
old woman next. 

De W. I can't help it. Lu wants some young chap who will 
fall out, quarrel, cry, kiss, make it up, quarrel and forgive again 
ten times a day. I could when I was young. I can't now. I 
want rest. That makes her angry. Then she loves to be jealous. 

Mrs. T. But she is not jealous. 

De W. I know it, but she likes to think she is. It's her na- 
ture. If I gave her cause she'd be delighted — be miserably 
happy. As I don't, she frets. Now what am I to do ? 

Mrs. T. [Sobbing.'] Do? Can you ask? Bear with her, 
poor child. In a few years she will lose all that. We get old 
soon enough. Let us have a little youth. [Handkerchief to eyes.] 

De W. There, there, don't mind me. 

Mrs. T. [Same.] Poor Lu, so young, so inexperienced. 

De W. I'll make it up, Mrs. Ten Eyck. I won't go. 

3frs. T. Humor her little faults, De Witt. 

De W. I will. I will. 

Mrs. T. Let us find her, poor child. Come. [About to take 
his arm.] 


Fanny enters from house. 

Mrs. T. Ah, excuse me a moment. \_Aside to Fan.'] Fanny, 
my love, do you know if Edward has posted my letter to that 

Fanmj. No, I stopped it, until I saw you. 

Mrs. T. Quick, then, find him, he must catch the mail to- 

Fan. \_Lookmg off, n.v. B.] There's the captain now. [Calls 
him.] CajDtain ! 

3Irs. T. What nonsense. Call him Edward, nobody calls him 
captain, and you always — 

Fan. But, mamma, since I'm married — 

Mrs. T. Stuff, my dear, an old friend like him ! 

Fan. Oh, well. \_Calling.'] Edward! Edward! 

Mrs. T. Run and meet him. Tell him to hasten to the post. 
[Fan. runs off, r. u. e.] Come, De Witt, let us find Lu, and 
begin your excellent system of forbeai-ance. \_E.veunt in house.] 

Fan. \^Heard in distance.] Edward ! Edward ! 

Adrianse and Duncan enter, l. 1 e. 

Alfred. You see? 

Duncan. Yes, I see. 

Al. He is here still. When I went to the city yesterday, I 
expressly said to her, I don't like that man, I don't like his 
familiarity with you. If you wish to oblige me, discourage his 

Dun. Well, that can't be done at once ; you can't take a 
gentleman by the back of the neck and turn him out. She may 
be complying with your request, and doing it gradually. 

Al. Does this look like it? — Calling him to her, calling him 
over and over again ? 

^Dun. That wfis because he didn't hear her. 

Al. [^Throws Imnself in seat] But by his name — Edward, as 
if — 

Dun. Well, it is his name — suppose it had been Patrick? 

Al. How is he to be discouraged if she calls him back when- 
ever he leaves her side. 

Dun [Sits L. of A I.] You forgot, her mother and old De Witt 
were here. 

Al. Yes, and she left tliem to seek him alone. I tell you my 
wishes are not respected. She is my wife, and my will ought to 
be law, particularly when it concerns a man whose conduct might 
give rise to talk. 


Dun. But I confess I don't see — you know he is an old friend 
of the family. 

Al. "What rights that gives him he may have. I ask him to 
the house when I ask her mother. 

Dun. Oh, well, tell him to go. 

Al. [^Rlses, and walking to l.] You talk like a child. How can 
I make myself a laughing stock, ordering a man to leave the 
house; he'd talk about me all over New York. It's my Avife's 
business. Women know how. 

Dun. [r. on seat.'] But she don't encourage him. 

Al. How absurd yon are. Of course she don't. Do you think 
I'd live with her a day if she encouraged him ? Thank heaven, I 
don't suspect my wife. 

Dun. \^Rising.'\ Then all is well. 

Al. All is not well, while I am annoyed by that man coming 
between her and me. 

Fanny entering from house. 

Fanny. My dear Alfred. {^Runs to him.'] 

Al. \^Coldly.'\ Well, Fanny. [She looks at him a vioment, 
then draws back her hand, which ivas on his shoulder. Al. walks 
up and down, L.] 

Fan. Grace and I were looking for you both long ago. The 
train has been in this half hour. Where have you been, Hany ? 

Dun. We walked up, instead of driving. I called at Messer- 
roles for the things. You will have quite a party to-night for 
baby's birthday. Where's Grace ? [She motions towards house.] 
I must run otf to find her. [Aside, crosses to Al.] Do be good 
now — you noticed she called me by my Christian name, too. 
[Fan. goes up to l.] 

Al. [ Crossing to seat, r.] You are an old friend of mine. 

Dun. And Lynde is an old friend of hers. Do be decent 
now, make it up for the sake of your guests to-night. [E.vits into 
Iwuse, E.] 

Al. [By seat] Why do you stand over there? 

Fan. [Advancing to l.] You hardly noticed me when I spoke 
to you. I suppose you feel towards me as you did when you left 
me yesterday morning. 

Al. [Rises, advances to her.] As I live, Fanny, I came back 
to-day resolved to show you that I loved you more than ever, but 
expecting to find my wishes complied ^jdth. 

Fan. I have done all that lay in my power. 

Al. How can that be, when I heard you calling that man ; 
and you have just left him. 


Fan. I have not just left him, I could not find him. 

Al. Why did you go to seek him? 

Fan. Because he — I cannot tell you. 

Al. You cannot tell me. Take care, Fanny, you are touching 
dangerous grounds. 

Fan. Not at all. I promised to keep his secret, that is all. 

Al. His secret? So, then, there are secrets between you; up 
to this time I considered you blameless. 

Fan. [^Indignantly.'] Have a care in your turn. You have 
not gone as far as that yet. 

Al. I will have nothing more between you and that man. 
You shall not see him again, do you hear ? 

Fan. Yes, I hear you, Alfred. \_Sits, L,] 

Al. You are perilling your own reputation by such conduct. 

Fan. [In seat, L. H.] Go on. [Tremxdously.'] Let me hear 
the worst you think of me. 

Al. You are destroying my happiness and you will ruin your 

Fan. [Rises^ You have destroyed my happiness by your 
passionate caprices. Do you know what your words mean? 
If I am fit to be told that I must not see any man living, I am 
not fit to be any man's wife. 

Al. [ Up and down stage.~\ I have the right to regulate your 
conduct to other men. 

Fan. I do not care what you do. I am willing you should 
send every one out of the house. 

Al. [Stage, r.] It rests with you to discourage the man. 

Fan. I will do nothing more. I care no more for him than 
for any other old friend of my childhood. I am conscious of no 
guilt, and I suspect nobody's motives. If he comes here I will 
treat him decently. If you drive him away and we chance to 
meet, I shall treat him as I always do. 

Enter Captain, r. u. e., hurriedly. 

Captain. [Comes down c] Ah! Fanny, heard you'd been 
looking for me. [Sees AL] How are you old fel — [Holds 
out his hand, Al. takes it reluctantly.] 

Fan. [Crosses L. to AL] Make some excuse to take me away. 
Give me your arm. [Capt. eyes them with glass.] 

Al. I'm not going to run away as if I were afraid of him. 

Capt. I wanted to see you myself, about — you know ; getting 
late you know, the letter — [She takes no notice.] 

Al. Do you wish to disgrace us? Look at the way he stares 
at us, as if he was about to laugh in my face. 


Fan. I thought you wished me to oiFend him. 

Capt. \^Advancing.'\ When will you talk over that little 
matter, Fauny? 

Al. \_Crosses to him.'] If you like to wait in the house, we'll 
soon be in. 

Capt. [ Crosses c. and up.] Thanks, there's some hurry, you 
know. I can drive down to the post though, if time presses. 
\_Lights cigarette and exits into house. Fan. takes stage c] 

Al. \_Advancing to her.] You have told him pretty much 
all he wants to know by your conduct. 

Fan. What am I to do to please you? I can bear this no 
more. [ Going up R.] He shall leave here to-night. I will make 
him go. 

Al. I will have no vulgar scenes. If you are anxious to go 
to him about your secret, go ! but make up no farce with him 
about his expulsion on account of my jealousy. 

Fan. When you are calm again you will recall that. For 
the present my course is fixed. [^Exits, r. 2 D.] 

Al \^As she is going ^ What course is that? [J.5 she exits 
without replying, throws himself in seat, R., buries his head in his 
hands.] There is a curse hangs over marriage after all. For all 
these years we seemed to agree in everything. I was as happy 
as my fondest dream, but this miserable little question of my 
right to ar^ise and guide her separates us in a moment. [^Ri^es, 
savagely.] Curse the scroundrel, I wish he'd never been born. 
[^Sits R.] 

JiTT enters, l. u. e. 

Jitt. Hem! excuse me, sir, is this Mr. Adrianse's place? 

Al. Yes. 

Jit. Mrs. De Witt on a visit here at present? 

Al. She is. 

Jit. Hem, I should like to see her. 

Al. [Turns away.] Give your card to the servant. 

Jit. Well, I've hardly got the sort of card to go up into a 
parlor with. Nothing but my business pasteboard. [Produces 
one.] "Templeton Jitt, Attorney and Counsellor-at-law, Proctor 
in Admiralty, Commissioner for all the States. Divorces pro- 
cured without publicity." Hardly the sort of bombshell to 
throw into a host's parlor that, eh ? 

Al. [Quickly, r.] You are a lawyer? 

Jit. Yes, and Avanted particularly quick too, I should reckon, 
by the summons. Do you happen to knoAV the lady? 

Al. Mrs. De Witt, yes. Did she send for you ? 


Jit Oh, things must be in a precious state. Is she recrularlv 
hurt bad? ^ ^ 

AL Hurt bad? 

Jit. Black and blue — all over bruises — cruel treatment, you 
know! also more serious crimes against the matrimonial laws. 

Al. \_Turns away.'] I don't comprehend. I'll call my wife. 

Jit. Bless me. I hope you are not the husband. What a 
puddle I have got into. 

Al. [^Returning.'] What husband ? 

Jit. DeWitt. 

Al. Mr. and Mrs. De Witt are guests of mine. They are in 
the house at this moment. 

Jit You don't mean to say they've made up again ? That is 
too shabby. After bringing me all the way here. 

Al. ICalls.'] Richard! 

Jit Eh ! He's calling the servants. I wonder if he means 
anything summary. 

Richard enters, r. 2 e., from house. 


Richard. Yes, sir ! 

Al. Show this gentleman into the library, and take his card 
to Mrs. De Witt. 

Rich. Yes, sir. This way, sir ! 

Jit [ Grosses to c] A thousand times obliged. Have a card, 
sir ? Happy to return politeness by anything in my way. [ Offers 
card. Al. takes it and^ throws it on seat, r.] He may be good 
for a fee some time or other. Lead on, Richard. 

Rich. This way, sir! 

Jit All right. I always follow precedents. \_Exeunt, R. 2 E. 
Music of waltz is heard in house. Al. comes slowly to seat, R., 
picks up card.] 

Al. So, then, domestic trouble begins to eat its way into all 
our houses. 

Mr. and Mrs. Kemp appear, l. u. e. 

Mrs. Kemp, [r.] Not a soul to receive us, I do declare. 

Al. {^Rises, and puts card thoughtlessly into his pocket] Why, 
yes. 'I'm here, aunt Kemp. How do you do, and you, uncle 
Syl. \_Crosses to c] I was half afraid you wouldn't come. 

Mrs. K. We never miss anything in this way, you know. 

Kemp. We have lived so long in the country that we should 
be dead and buried if we didn't keep up our visiting, you know. 
There's the music. Waltzing, eh ? I must see to that. I'll go 
right in. [ Going gaily.] 


Mrs. K. Wait a bit, father. 

Kemp. [Coming back gaily.'] All right, Susie, just as you 

Mis. K. Who's here? [Old man continues dancing to the 
music quietly.] 

Al. Not many yet, it's early. You are the first from Hemp- 
stead way. 

Mrs. K. I mean stopping with you ? 

Al. Fanny's mother, De Witt, and his wife. 

Mrs. K. And Neddie Lynde, as I live. I see him through 
the glass there. It is he, isn't it? 

At. Yes! 

Kemp. [Near window.] I see you. [Shakes his finger. Chorus 
of girls inside.] 

Omnes. Oh, if it isn't Mr. Kemp, I declare. Did you ever? 

Kemp. Aha, I'm with you. See here, Susie, you can spare 
me, just a minute. There's a kiss till you come. [Going.] Aha, 
you rogues, look at this. [Chorus of girlish laughter at his exit. 
Music stops.] 

Mrs. K. Father's as wild as fiver, ha ! ha ! How on earth did 
you come to know Neddy Lynde? Did he visit Clara's when 
you were there ? 

Al. Yes, constantly. 

Mrs. K. Not married yet, I suppose. 

Al. [r., gloomily.] I suppose not. 

Mrs. K. You don't like him — neither do I; but I have my 
reasons, and you have not. He's a fool. 

Al. A ver)'^ dangerous one, I believe. 
_ Mrs. K. It's not the danger in the man, it's the effect he 
produces. He never got a woman to fall in love with him yet, but 
he can ruin her good name in a week by making everybody be- 
lieve she has — and all through his familiar ways. 

Al. Dear Aunt, I only wish Fanny could hear yoii ; she re- 
fuses to believe anything against Lynde. 

Mrs. K. I hope you havn't said anything to her against him; 
that's not the way, you foolish boy, to make a woman dislike a 
man. [Music] 

Al. No. 

Mrs. K. No. Has he been worrying you ? 

Al. I don't want to say anything to make you think Fanny — 
. Mrs. K. And I wouldn't think Fanny — if you did ; she's a 
blessed good girl. The best I ever saw. I'll talk to her. [Twrns 
to R.] 

Al. You've taken a load off my mind. 

Mrs. K. [Laxighs.] I hope I havn't put the load all on my 


own shoulders. However, I guess I know how matters are, and 
I'll drop a word in Fanny's ear if I can. 

Kemp runs in from window. 

Kemp. I say, Susie. 

Mrs. K. Did you ever hear a name sound so funny for an old 
woman? Well, father, what is it? 

Kemp. I want you to dance. 

3Irs. K. With Avhom ? 

Kevip. With me, of course. I wouldn't let anyone else. 
When I get old, you can dance with all the young fellows you 
like. Come along, quick, they are going to begin. [Runs in, e. 

Al. Take my arm. 

Mrs. K. Nonsense. I can run faster than you can ; let me 
try — oh ! Well. \_Laughs, takes his arm; they go in together. 
Stop Music] 

JiTT and Lu enter from r. u. e. 

L^i. We can talk here better than in the library; no one will 
overhear us. [ Goes to garden bench^ 

Jitt. [l.] As you please; but it is hardly the place for a 
consultation. Nature is all very well, but it has a depressing 
effect on law. 

Lu. Oh, rubbish! Sit down. 

Jit. Ah, excuse me. [Goes L., hloivs a little whistle, and is 

Lu. Mercy on me ! What's that ? 

Jit. That's — that's only Burritt; the regular thing, ma'am. 
Burritt is a private detective, invaluable in these matters. 

BuERiTT enters, L. u. e. 

Burritt. All right, sir. Here I am — handy. 

Jit. \_To Lu.l I think you said that old gent with the white 
hair was your husband. [Points through window, r.] 

Lu. [/w maze.'\ Yes, but — 

Jit. Excuse me. Burritt, look at that gentleman standing by 
the window. \_Taking him up) stage, and points to windoiv.~\ 

Bur. I see him easy enough. 

Jit. Mark him, then. [Bur. watches ivindoiv^ 

Lu. What is all this? What do I want with a detective? 

Jit. We shall see, ma'am, we shall see. 


Lu. [Sits on bench, r.] But I insist upon your sending that 
dirty man away. 

Bur. \_Advannng, l.] All regular, ma'am, I assure you. 
Everybody has us. 

Lu. But I don't want to have anything to do with detectives. 

Jit. Never engaged in this sort of thing before, then ? Never 
been divorced, eh? 

Lm. Why, I've only been married three years. 

Jit. Very fortunate lady, ma'am. The way things go now-a- 
days, a very long period of connubial felicity. But to judge by 
your letter, your time's come at last. \_Sits, L. c] 

Lxi. I'm a perfectly wretched woman. [^Sits, r.] 

Jit. Let's come to the point, then. \^Draios chair near c, Bur. 
stands beside /im.] You talk, I'll listen. Don't be afraid to 
speak. To begin, you want to get a divorce from your husband. 
What's your ground ? [Bur. gets out his note-book and jyencil.'] 

Lm. What's my ground? 

Jit. Yes — your legal grounds. 

Lu. Why, I leave all the legal grounds to you. You are a 

Jit. Ah, I see ; I'm to work up the case. {Slyly. ~\ 

Lu. You are to do whatever lawyers do, I suppose. 

Jit. The old style of thing; eh, Burritt? 

Bur. Old game, sir. She's a deep one. It's my opinion, she's 
been there before. 

Jit. You must give us some clue, ma'am. Your husband is 
pretty gay, eh? 

Lu. Not a bit of it. 

Jit. But he goes out — you don't know where ? 

Lu. No, he doesn't. 

Jit. Whom do you suspect. Got your note-book, Burritt ? 

Bur. I'm there! 

Lu. Suspect of what ? 

Jit. Why — hem — what — particular lady ? 

Lu. Why, you vulgar creature, what do I know about such 
things ? 

Jit. Then it is a case of cruelty. 

Lu. Yes. 

Jit. Inhuman conduct. Unsafe and dangerous to live with 
him ; mere separation. Revised Statutes — Part Second, Chapter 
8, Article 4. And nothing else ? 

JjU. What! Isn't that enough ? No. 

Jit. {Disappointed.'] Oh! 

Bur. [Shuts up book.'] Ah ! [Disgusted.] 

Jit. Poor stutf— eh, Burritt? 


Bur. Very common, sir. 

Jit. You can't get a Divorce in full for that, you know. You 
only get a Separation. 

Lu. Well, that'll do — anything. 

Jit. But, then, you can't marry again. 

Ltc. Who said I wanted to be married again? I wouldn't be 
married again for anything; once is a dose. 

Jit. Ah! 

Bitr. l^Long whistle.'] Oh ! [Pufe up note-book.'] 

Jit. Odd case, this, Burritt. 

Bar. Most remarkable, sir. 

I/u. What astonishes you so much ? 

Jit. Well, hem, I've procured about a thousand divorces in 
my time, and you are the first lady who didn't want one in order 
to marry somebody else. 

Lu. The horrid things. All I want is to be independent, to 
live as I please,^and to have a liberal allowance ; he must give 
me a liberal allowance, mustn't he ? 

Jit. What's he worth ? 

Lu. [^Carelessly, as she rises.] Half a million. [Bur. opens 
book again.] 

Jit. [Rises.] Half a million ? — whew — this is out of the com- 
mon run. [J.sicZe.] Five thousand dollars fee at least. [J^fo^jci.] 
You are a lucky woman. He shall pay you — let me see. Bur- 
ritt, what do you say ? 

Bur. Ten thousand a year would sound .tidy. 

Lu. That would do very well, indeed. [Rises.] 
■« Jit. With your appearance, ma'am, I think I could guarantee 
more ; if you'll only come into court, I think I could make it 
fifteen. What a — a splendid figure, Burritt, to fling at a jury, 

Bur. Lovely, sir, perfectly irresistible. 

Lu. No, I won't have anything to do with it. 

Jit. All legal, ma'am — quite legal. 

Lu. And remember, Mr. De Witt is not to know anything of 
this till it's all done. 

Jit Eh ? [Looks at Bur., who scratches his head.] We have 
to give him notice, serve him with a summons, as we call it. 

Lu. But I don't want him to know anything until I get the 
divorce; he'd tell ma, and she'd stop it. 
/ Jit. Can't be done, ma'am. 

Bur. [l.] It used to be did, but that's all over now. 
Courts too stricts — States Prison — no go. 

Lu. [r.] But you said in your advertisement that you would 
procure divorces without publicity. 


Jit. [c] I meant without getting it in the papers, without 
having it come before a court and jury. We get it done by a 

Lu. "What's that ? Some kind of a machine ? 

Jit. Yes'm. A machine referee. 

Bur. A referee machine. 

Lu. And it's as good that way, as the other way. 

Bur. Oh ! Copper-bottomed — A 1. 

Jit. \_Sits, L.] And now, if you'll give me the points of the 
cruelties. Tell me what he does. Get your notes ready, Burritt. 
^ Bur. Here we are, sir. 

Lai. [Sits, R.] He's perfectly outrageous, he finds fault with 
my extravagance — says my dressmaker's bills are too high, and 
that my appetite for jewelry will ruin him. A month ago we 
had a quarrel, and he didn't come home to dinner — in fact, he 
didn't come home till one o'clock — I locked myself in my room, 
and when I refused to let him in, he abused me through the key- 

Jit. It's heartrending. What did he call you? \_Clutches 
Bur's hand — he leans forward.^ 

Lu. He said I was a Goose. \_Both disapj)ointed.~\ Then all 
the next week I refused to speak to him, and he sat back and 
laughed at me; then when I wouldn't relent, he went out of town, 
and stayed two days. But I revenged myself; I went to every 
store I knew of, and bought everything I could think of, and 
when he came back I showed him the bills, and he laughed at 
me, and said he'd keep the amount out of my allowance, and he 
has exasperated me every day since, to the last degree of frenzy, 
by keeping as cool as ice, while 1 was boiling over. At last, my 
patience gave way, and I told him I would leave him, and wrote 
to you. 

Jit. Is that all ? 

Lu. All ! isn't that enough ? 

Jit. Come, now — try and remember — didn't he fly into a pas- 
sion ? 

Lu. Never. That's what makes me so mad. 

Jit. But he did call you several opprobrious epithets ? 

Lu. Yes, he called me a goose repeatedly. 

Jit. But he prefixed some qualifying adjective, eh ? He was 
profane, eh ? — come, now. What kind of a goose did he call 
you ? 

Lu. Nothing. Just plain goose. 

Jit. [Eyeing her, then rejiediveli).'] Plain goose — well, put it 
down, Burritt. 

Bur. Down she goes, sir. Plain goose. 


Jit. And he never used any violence ? 

^ Iai. [Starts up with tone of implied threat.'] I'd like to see 
him ! 

Jit. Never locked you up ? 

Lu. No, indeed — he couldn't. 

Jit. Never prevented your family visiting you ? 

Lu. He wouldn't dare to. [ Goes up.] 

Jit. Burritt, this is a very weak case. 

Bur. It's a fraud, sir, that's my view of it. 

Jit. The Court would throw the papers at our heads. 

Bur. Oh, it wouldn't do, noways. 

Jit. I regret to say, Mrs. De Witt, that you have no case ; you 
couldn't get a decree of divorce for that, any more than you could 
get a paper of tacks. 

Lu. [Stage R. and back.] You mean to say that I have no 
redress for my husband's cruel conduct ? 

Jit. [Still seated.] I mean to say that the law don't see it. 

Lu. But I will. [Hits his hat with her Jan. Bur. takes note 
of damaffes.] Have a separation — I will — I will. I won't be 
abused in this way all my life. Is there no other way? 

Jit. [Rises.] I'll thijik it over. Eh, Burritt ? 

Bur. Yes, sir, we'll give it our consideration. 

Jit. [LTat behind him.] Where can I see you in two or three 

Lu. We return home to New York, to-morrow. Come into 
the library, and I'll give you the address. 

Jit. You are very good. I'll put my mind on it. 

Lu. Come this way, so as not to be seen. It wouldn't do to 
take your friend through the parlors, he isn't just the figure for 
a quadrille. [JExits, R. 1 E.] 

Jit. Coming, Burritt? 

Bur. Thankee, no. I'll wait about here — too hot in the 
house. [Jit. exits, r. 2 e.] There's no knowing what odd plants 
I might come across here. [Lights his pipe and goes off, R. u. E., 

Fanny and Captain, tvho enter, r. 2 e., folloived by Mrs. Ten 


Captain. There's no use talking further, my dear Fanny. I 
might as well go now as any time ; he won't treat me any better 
if I stay. 

Mrs. Ten Eyck. I never heard of such conduct. Edward has 
always been so kind, so brotherly. 

Capt. Well, you know, I can't help it if he's jealous. So it's 
best for me to go. I'll do whatever you say, though. 


Fanny. And I insist upon your remaining. 

Mrs. T. Fanny, would you have Edward exposed to daily 
annoyance, such as he has just submitted to? \^Crosses to her.'] 

Fan. [Seated, l.] I would have no publicity about our do- 
mestic concerns. If Edward goes away suddenly, talk will be 
made, questions will be asked, and you know, however innocent 
she may be, blame will fall upon the wife. 

Mrs. T. Well, then, perhaps Edward had better stay — at least 
for a while. 

Capt. No, I'm only in the way, I'm only an object of suspi- 
cion to your husband; I'd better go. Good-bye, Fanny, don't 
begin to think, as your husband does, that I'm to blame for -all 

Fan. You are to blame for nothing. "Won't you remain for 
my sake ? 

Capt. I am going for your sake. All will blow over when 
I'm out of the way. I should like to hear that you are happy; 
you might just drop me a word, just a line, to say: "All's well !" 
I should be so glad of that. 

Fan. [ Crosses to Mrs. T.] I will tell mother all — she is my 
confidant; you can ask her. 

Caj)t. [Going up, L.] Thanks for so much, then. Good-bye. 
[Going ftp.] 

Mrs. T. See Edward to the gate, Fanny. 

Fan. I'm going to, mamma. 

3{rs. T. You can come in by the back way ; I'll watch for 

Fan. I will return this way; I'm not afraid that anything I 
do should be known to all the world. [Exits, l. u. e., taking 
Capt.'s arm.] 

3Irs. T. I will be home to-morrow, Edward ; come and see me 
as soon as I get there. [Towards house.] I'd better go as soon 
as I can in my turn, for after he's sent all his wife's old friends 
out of the house, he'll show her mother the door. 

Alfred enters from house. 

Alfred. Where is Fanny? 

Mrs. T. Fanny— why, didn't you leave her in the house? 

AL* She left me to come out here. 

Mrs. T. Well, you must watch her for yourself. AVhen my 
daughters marry, I can't do that duty for their husbands. [ Crosses, 
R., up stage.] 

AL There is no occasion for bitterness. I'm not a very brutal 
husband yet. 

Mrs. T. Don't tell me that, Mr. Adrianse, after you have 



driven one of your wife's and one of my best and truest friends 
from your house to-night by your cruel jealousy. 

Al. \_Pleased.'] What — is he gone? 

3Irs. T. Yes, he is gone, and let me tell you that, if you par- 
ticularly value your character as a gentleman, you will have it 
pretty severely tested by society in a very short time. [^Exits 
into housed] 

Al. Gone — that is some comfort at least. But I shall have 
the whole exposure that I dreaded unless I prevent it. 

BuRRiTT comes from hekind house, going l. 

It's foolish to hesitate now, and beat about the l)ush. I'll see him 
myself, and make him understand. [Sees Bur.'] Here, my man, 
whose servant are you ? Do you know Captain Lynde ? 

Burritt. [Keenly.'] Captain Lynde? Is that the one they 
call Edward ? [Al. turns away, as if biting his li])s.] I heard 
the ladies call him Edward. He's gone down to the gate with 
the one they call Fanny. Precious sweet on him, she is, too, I 
should judge. 

Al. [Seizes him violently.] You scoundrel ! 

Bur. Now, don't, sir ; you'll only shake yourself to pieces 
that way. If I've offended you, I beg your pardon, I may have 
seen too much ; but that's our business. I'm a detective. 

Al. A detective ? What brought you here ? 

Bur. Mr. Jitt, he brought me. 

Al. Hark you, then, my man, the less you see, and the less 
you say about what you see, the more it will be worth to you. 
[ G-ives money.] Go ! 

Bur. [Touches hat] All right, sir. [Aside, as he goes off.] 
1 guess he's the one they call Alfred. [Exits, L. 1 e.] 

Al. [Looking off, L.] It was that way they went. If I dared 
to follow — perhaps I should know the worst — know whether my 
wife — [Turns towards house.] 

Mrs. Kemp enters, r. 2 e. 

Mrs. Kemp. Talking of Fanny? Where is she? I saw her 
slip out after Neddie, and I thought it a good chance to catch 
them together and give them a little good advice. 

Al. I'm afraid that's useless now; the man has concluded to 
go at last, and my wife is taking what, I suppose, may be called 
an affectionate farewell. [Bitterly.] 

Mrs. K. Nonsense! What has happened to you? There, go 
along, I hear her coming ; go in, I tell you. [Pushes him into 


Fanny and Kitty Crosbie enter, l. u. e. 

Kitty, [l.] How odd to meet you doAvn there. Do you know, 
George never got home at all, and I was afraid I couldn't come, 
but I drove over myself. Won't I pay him off for that, though. 

3Irs. K. Very bad language, young woman. 

Kitty. Lord, if it isn't Cousin Kemp. Why, Cousin Kemp, 
how are you ? [ Crosses and kisses /ler.] 

M7-S. K. About as well afe you flighty things will let me be 
with your new ideas about the management of husbands. 

Kihy. Well, I don't trouble myself about managing mine, I 
let him manage himself. Only married a year and a half and 
quite independent of every restriction. Have my own company, 
my own flirtations, in short, quite my own way. 

Fan. And George? 

Kitty. Oh, he has what he wants — his own way. I make it 
a point of advising all the girls I know to do as I do when they 
get married: have your own way; if you stop to think what will 
please your husband, you'll live in hot water all your life. 

Fan. You are not very wrong. It's best to give up the task 
at once ; a wife never does the right thing. 

Kitty. And if she does it's either too late or too soon, or the 
wrong way, or not done well. It's impossible to meet a husband's 
whims ; my rule cures him ; I never mind his wishes, and he soon 
gives up wishing. 

il/r.v. K. [^Seated, R.] Well, I've lived forty years with my 

Kitty. Lord, how did you manage it? 

Mrs. K. \_Eises.'\ We tried to bear with each other's failings. 
If he was jealous, I was circumspect. If I was jealous, he was 
devoted ; instead of abusing each other, we tried to remedy the 
trouble, and so we've lived to this time without a quarrel. 

Kitty. Oh, mercy! a sermon. [^Crossing to window.^ I never 
listen to one. 

3Irs. K. You don't— why not? 

Kitty. \_Laughs.'\ It might change my views, and I'm too 
well satisfied to risk that. Come,Fauny. \^Fxits, r. 2 e.] 

il/r.s. K. \_Stopping her.^ One moment, my love. Eddy 
Lynde has gone away, and you are not friends with your husband. 

Fan. Who told you that? 

Mrs.K He did! 

Fan. Does he begin to publish our quarrel? I can spread 
the news as well as he. \_Crossing to R.] 

Mrs. K. [^Takes her hand as she crosses.^ He only wanted 
me to advise you. 


Fan. Advise me to do what? I have already done every- 
thing he wishes. 

3Irs. K. But things are worse than ever! 

Fan. That is his fault. 

Mrs. K. You have not implicitly obeyed his wishes. 

Fan. Don't use that word to me, I can't bear it. 

Mrs. K. Why, my dear, it's the duty of a true wiie. 

Fan. Right or wrong ? 

Mrs. K. Right or wrong. 

Fan. This is your doct^-ine? 

Mrs. K. I have lived by it forty years. 

Fan. Then listen to mine. Just so far as it is right I will obey 
his wishes. If I am in doubt, I will give him the benefit of that 
doubt and still comply, 

Alfred appears, Mrs. K. motions him hack. 

but if he outrages my feelings, insults my friends and suspects 
my honor, I will resent it with all my power to the day of my 
death, \_Crosses to l. Music tremolo till end.'\ 

Alfred. \_Advancing^ That is your determination ? 

Mrs. K. '[Crossing c. between i/iem.] Hush, both of you. 
[To Al.^ This was not for your ears. 

Enter Mrs. Ten Eyck, r. 2 e. 

Fan. It might as well be spoken out. I take nothing back. 
lGoesto3Irs. T.] 

Mrs. Ten Eyck. [l. c] My poor child. [Embracing her.'] 

Al. You forget that I have some rights. Among them — 
[Crosses to c. R.] I am master of my own house. This quarrel 
is between my own wife and me; we will settle it without inter- 
ference. You must take my views of her duties, or you must 
leave the house. [To Mrs. jT.] 

Mrs. T. I told you. It's ray turn now to go. I can overtake 
Edward. [Going, L. u. e.] 

Fan. Mother, stay where you are. [Crosses to AL] Will 
you apologize for this insult to my mother? 

Al. [Crossing to R.] No! 

Fan. [Taking her mother' s hand.] Then we will go together. 

Al. takes stage to r. h., with a wave of the hand signifying : "Do as 
you please." Mrs. K. makes a step to interfere, she is waved 
off, she turns to console Al. 





Scene. — Wt6 interior at Hyde Parke. At r. c. a large arch, 
throiifjh which is seen a chamber, bed partly visible; window 
near it in fiat, L. c, doors through which the woody country is 
seen. Doors R. and L. Music — Molly is discovered dress- 
ing Alfred, a child about 21 years old. Jim, dressed as a 
tiger, is looking on. 

Molly. Now do let me put the things on ye, Master Alfred, 
it's the provoking time I have with you anytime, but when ye're 
going out, shure you've no match for contrariness. 

Jim. It's all the want of paternal correction, Molly. If he 
had a father to welt him, he'd precious soon stop his pranks. 

Mol. Shure, it's a thousand pities the father and mother 
couldn't agree. It's a warnin' to us young girls. 

Jim. Not if you havn't got the vicious propensities of the 
aristocracy. Poor people can't afford to separate. 

Mol. Thrue for ye, it's only the rich folks ken indulge in such 
luxuries; Ave have to live together for economy. 

Jim. Look at Bonyparte and Josephine, how they separated, 
it's a foreign and disgraceful practice. . 

3Iol. Shure, but it's slander we're talking, though ; sure the 
master hasn't separated from the missus. 

Jim. Well, what's the difference ; she's been down here three 
months, and he's never come near her. Do you suppose a square 
man would act like that ? Do you suppose, if I was married, I 
would ? 

Mol. I suppose it all depinds on the woman you were married 

Jim. That's so, Molly, and it depends on a young woman 
what I has in my eye now. 

3Iol. Ah! Don't be looking at me that way, you decaiver. 
Let me dress the child for ye to take out. Put your hands away, 
will ye? 

Jim. All right, hurry him up. He's becoming an object of 
curiosity to the neighborhood already; the baby without a father, 
as they call him. 

Mol. AVho called him that? 

Jim. "Why, I got the word from a strange looking fellow 
that's been talking with us down at the stable. 


Mol. A stranger, is it? An' what's he got to say about Master 

Jim. Why, no later than day before yesterday, there was* a 
sort of chunky chap, with short hair, a cross between a farmer 
and a horse-jockey, who came over to the stable, and says he to 
me — 

BuERiTT, %vho has apjjeared at c. d., fro7n L., and overheard the 

last words. 

Burritt. Good morning ! 

Jivi. [Startled.'] Eh ! 

Mol. [Frightened.] Merciful gracious presarve us — who's 
that ? 

Bur. I said good afternoon ! 

Jim.. [Aside to 3fol.'\ That's him. 

Mol. Who — who do you want to see, if you please ? 

Bur. Oh, nobody, I was only passing — 

Mol. Thin pass on, if ye plaze. 

Bur. Time enough. Folks in ? 

Mol. Yis, sir, the folks is in. If ye've no business here you'd 
better go on ; if you don't, shure I'll call the master. 

Jim. Yes, and if he can't settle you, I'll lend a hand. 

Bur. Don't come too near me, bobby, or I'll blow you away. 
Pretty child, that. Looks like his fathers Come here, bubby ! 

Child. [Clings to 3fol.] No! 

Bur. Don't be afraid of me, sonny, I'm a friend. 

Mol. None of your decait now. 

Bur. I'm a friend of his mother's, I tell you; look at this. 
[Shoivs letters.'] A little note for the lady herself — Mrs. 

Mol. Shure, so it is. 

Bur. Didn't I tell you I was a friend. 

Jim. [r. c, to 3fol.] Don't believe him. [To Bur.] Where'd 
you get it? 

Bur. I won't tell you, I'll tell the pretty girl there; you've no 
business with the lady's secrets, but I guess the girl knows 'em. 
Let the girl alone for that. 

Mol. Jimmy, just stand forninst the dure. Don't go far. 

Jim. 1 won't. There's no telling when I may be wanted. 
I'll be handy. [Goes up to door, L. c] 

Bur. [ Gets close to her, affecting mystery.] This here's from 
Capt. Lynde. 

Jlol. Shure he's the foine gintleman. 

Bur. Tip-top fellow ; the ladies all love him, don't they? 


Mol. He lias such a way wid him. Shure they couldn't 
helj) it. 

. Bur. Now you see, he gives me this letter, and he says, " See 
the pretty girl, and give it to her to give her mistress." 

Mol. So I will. Jimmy, take the child. 

Bur. Where's he going ? 

Mol. Out for a drive. 

Bur. With his mother ? 

Mol. No, with Jimmy and and the coachman. Take him 
along, Jim. 

Jim. [c] All right. Master Alfred. Come along, my 
hearty. \^Adde to Mol^ I say, keep your eyes open, and your 
mouth shut, with that fellow. I don't like him. \_Curvies the 
child out on his shoulders, L. c] 

Bur. l_Calling after him.'\ Take precious care of him, Jimmy 
— how I loves the pet — I'm fond of children myself. [Tb 3Iol.'\ 
I say, if I was you, I wouldn't let Mrs. Ten Eyck or Mrs. De 
Witt see you give this letter to your missus. I guess it's pretty 
private and all that. I say, how is the Duchess, as they call her. 
You see I know the whole family. All pretty mad at Adrianse, 
ain't they — he was a bad fellow, wasn't he — they call him pretty 
hard names, now, I dare say, eh ? 

Mol. I don't listen at doors, and I can't say. If you know so 
much, you can't want any stories from me; give me the letter. 
{^Going, r.] Shure, is there an answer? 

Bur. Yes — I'll wait for it. [Mol. ru)is off, r. door, he looks 
after her, then takes out note-hook.'\ Now for my wady megum. 
Plan successful — saw the Captain— pretended to be general errand 
porter — bait took — hired me for confidential messenger — prom- 
ised me fifty dollars — paid fifty cents down — first service, gave 
me letter to carry to Mrs. Adrianse, I did so — looked through it 
with my double microscope investigator, found it to be a request 
for leave to call and tender his consolation — commenced " Dear 
Fanny," and ended: "Your affectionate friend, Edward." 
There. [^Closes book and rises.~\ Now for my personal observa- 
tions. Front door opening on garden — bolt lock — small bed — 
large bed— little shoes — little hat — nurse and child's room. 
l^Comes forward.'] Good enough. 

Jitt. [From room, l. 2 e.] That's it. That's it, exactly. 

Bur. What's that? Blessed if it ain't Jitt's voice. 1 hope 
he ain't on the other side. It would go agin me to circumvent 
him. {Sneaks up back.] 

Lu enters, l. d. 2 e. 
Lu. Here's the room, sir, you can look at it. 


JiTT enters, l. d. 2 e. 

JUL Just about the size, not too much furniture, therefore not 
too dangerous for the experiment. 

Lu. \_Sees Bur.'] Why there's your dirty man, a^ain. 

Jit. Eh ? why, Burritt ! 

Lu. What did he come for? I told you in my letter I only 
wanted yon.. 

Jit. [Aside.'] Hem ! What does he want ? [Bur. signs to 
him.] Excuse me. \_To Lu.] 

Lu. [Crosses behind, and off, l, 2 e.] Well, you call me 
when you get rid of him. [Goes off, gathers her skirts from Bur.] 

Jit. [l.] What is it ? What are you doing here ? 

Bur. [r.] One word, governor, whose side are you on? 

Jit. That lady's. 

Bur. Oh, then you ain't into the Adrianse quarrel ? 

Jit. No, I'm not retained in that. 

Bur. All right, then, that's my job. 

Jit. Can't you get me in ? 

Bur. You can do it yourself, now you're here. Go for the 
wife and her mother ; things have got to come to law, yet. I'm 
for the husband. I always like to know there's a gentleman on 
the other side to work agin. 

Lu. [Looking out.] Ain't he gone yet ? 

Jit. [c] Get out, now. 

Bur. [r.] I'm waiting for an answer to a letter I brougjit, 
but I don't mind the grass outside. Your servant, ma'am. 
[ Goes out and throws himself on grass, smoking.] 

Lu. [l.] I thought he'd never go. I don't want to meet 
any horrid creatures in the business, but yourself. [Both sit.] 

Jit. Shan't occur again. Now to the point. Your husband 
made up for his former brutality by paying all your bills, asking 
your pardon, and taking you on an overland excursion to Cali- 
fornia and Utah? 

Lu. Yes, it was splendid while it lasted, but when we came 
back he got to be just as bad as ever — in fact, worse. 

Jit. Any violence ? 

JjU. Only to my feelings. 

Jit. Suspicious? Jealous? 

Lu. Just the reverse. He says I may do what I like. I may 
buy all New York up, and beggar him — says all he can do is to 
submit to my whims. Did you ever hear such outrageous lan- 
guage ? 

Jit. Yes, he's as bad as he was before, no doubt about it. In 
fact, my dear madam, you can never be happy with him, and 
you must get a divorce somehow. 


Lu. I must have it. I have suffered in silence, but I can 
bear it no longer.. 

Jit Have you tried whether your husband would consent to 
a separation ? 

Lm. No, I want him to propose it, so I can go into hysterics, 
and touch his heart. 

Jit. And he won't ? 

Lu. No, he won't, and yet he goes on torturing me with his 
pretended resignation. 

Jit. Well, I see nothing left for you but to put in oj^eration 
the little stratagem I suggested ; you must lead him into some 
ebullition of anger, in which he will forget himself. 

Iju. But suppose he forgets me, too ? 

Jit. If he does, his case is settled. If he'll only give you a 
pinch on the arm, or a shove with the hand, or a box on the ear 
— but that is too great a legal luxury to expect. 

Lu. What if he should ? 

Jit. I undertake to get you a cast-iron divorce for the faintest 
tap on the cheek. 

Lu. It's no use — he'd never do it. 

Jit. Try him. 

Xw. He never flies into a passion, he never has any ebullitions 
of anything. 

Jit. Oh, bother, you don't make an effort. 

Lu. I don't? 

Jit. Of course not. You're an angel. I'll bet now you've 
never alluded to his age — to his ugliness — of course not. Have 
you ever told him of the splendid young fellow you'll marry, 
when he's gone under ? I thought not. 

Lu. He'd only laugh at me, and tell me I didn't mean it. 
That's how he always crushes me, by telling me I never mean 
any harm. 

Jit. Well, you just try it as an experiment. If you don't, 
then make up your mind to endure him as your life-long tor- 

Lu. But he's always in such good humor. 

Jit. If you can't get him out of it you are not up to the 
average of wives. [^Rises^ 

Lu. He'd provoke a saint. 

Jit. You musn't let him provoke you. Make an effort; I'll 
be by, we have the girl here for a witness, too — you must have 
witnesses to his brutality, you know. We'll be concealed, and at 
the moment he's worked up to an ungovernable rage we'll break 
forth and confront him. 

Lu. You are sure it will succeed ? 

DIVORCE. , 47 

Jxi. Of course it will, and as for the result — I pledge you my 
honor. \Bows low^ 

Lu. Your honor? Well I might as well take it, for you don't 
seem to need it much in your business. 

Jit. Ha! ha! very good. [J,stde.] Just like the rest of 'em, 
when we show 'em the way out of their troubles, they always joke 
us on our roguery. 

Fanny enters, r. d. 

Fanny. Where is the person who brought this letter ? 

Molly entering after her. . 

Molly. I left him just here, ma'am. {^Exits, r.] 
Jit. I beg pardon, I think the person you inquire for is out- 
side. Here, Burritt? 

Burritt. [ Gets up and comes forward.l Good enough. [Jit. 
goes up to I/u.l 

Mrs. Ten Eyck enters, r. d. 

Mrs. Ten Eyck. Fanny, what are you about to do? 

Fan. To send my answer, mamma. Edward says he wishes 
to see me; I tell him he may come. [Bur. leaning against door 
enters the conversation in his book.^ 

Mrs. T. [r., low.^ Take care, my dear. This may give rise 
to scandal. He has not been here yet, I have kept him away. 
We must avoid everything that excites gossip. 

Fan. I won't submit any longer to be shut up like a nun. 
I left Alfred because of his tyranny. Under my mother's roof, 
at least, I can be free. 

3Irs. T. But you must be politic, dear, your position is not 

Fan. [^Impatient movement.'] Take this letter to Captain 

Bur. [^Taking letter.'] This blessed minute, missus. {Puts 
letter in his note-book.] Good enough. {E.vits, c] 

Fan. I'm not playing a game of skill against my husband. 
I wage no war with him and have no plans. I am his wife still, 
and when he acts justly towards me, I am ready to go to him. 
I do him no harm in receiving a letter from an old friend, nor 
in answering it, nor in receiving Edward. Come, Lu, let's go on 
the lawn, we may meet baby. [ Goes to tvindow.] 

Lu. [_To Jit.] Don't go, De Witt will be here soon and I 


want to have this all over with. [Comes to Mrs. T.] Now, ma, 
do be polite to Mr. Jitt, please. Don't act as if you'd never seen 
him before. 

Mrs. T. [Crossing to -L. c, to Jit.'] Pray be seated, sir. [To 
Lu, L. c] Will you never be done with this nonsense about 
lawyers and divorces! You see the difficulty your sister's in? 

Lu. [c] She's left her husband. I suppose I can do what 
I like with mine now. You didn't tell her it was nonsense. 

3Irs. T. Well, a more ungrateful girl ! — you deserve to be left 
to yourself. 

Lu. That's what I want. 

Fan. [Comes down to her.'] Come, Lu, don't talk any more 
about it. 

Lu. [r., iveeping.] Well, but ma thinks because you have a 
matrimonial difficulty, nobody else has a right to one. 

Fan. You foolish girl, come. [Leads her i<p.] 

Ln. You know that I am wretched. [Sinlcs on Fan's 

Fan. Yes, love, I do. 

Lu. And that I must have a separation and, and — [Sobs.] 

Grace enters, l. c. 

Grace. Why, Lu, what's the matter? 

Lu. Nothing. [Snappishly.] Go up to your room. You are 
young and unmarried and mustn't know everything, oh, oh, oh ! 
Come, Fanny, let's go. 

Fan. At last. [F.vits, L. c, with Lu, laughing.] 

Grace. [Comes down R. c] Why, Aunt Clara, what's the 
matter ? 

il/rs. T. Nothing. More of Louise's nonsense. Grace, my 
love, I want you to watch from your window and when you see 
Edward Lynde coming, go out and meet him before Fanny does. 

Grace. What, is Edward coming here after all the trouble? 

3Irs. T. He has asked permission and Fanny has foolishly 
given it. But until something is definitely settled between her 
and Adrianse they must not meet; it will only give a color to 
Alfred's suspicions. Tell him so. 

Grace. 1 had better get Harry Duncan to see him too. We've 
both been making up how to reconcile Fanny and Alfred. 

Mrs. T. Nonsense, I don't like this getting into corners with 
Mr. Duncan, and this secrecy. You must discontinue it, and I 
don't ai)i)rove of your interfering between Fanny and her hus- 
band at all. 

Gr^ce. But aunt, he said it was a work of Christian charity. 


3frs. T. Christian charity is his business as a clergyman, but 
it's not yours. A young lady has nothing to do with these 
matters. [Crosses to c] 

Grace, [r.] But, aunt, you have just told me to speak to 
Eddy Lynde about the same thing. 

Mrs. T. It's altogether different ; when I tell you to do any- 
thing you may rely on its being proper. 

Grace. [Pettishly.'] And when I act on my own impulse, I 
suppose it's very improper. • 

Mrs. T. [Dignified.'] That will do ; go to your own room till 
Edward comes. [ Goes up to door.] 

Grace. [Going, r., aside.] I'll ask Harry if he thinks it's 
improper. I'll believe what he says. Clergymen must know 
better than anyone else what's right, and he says he's always glad 
to advise me. [Exits, R. 1 e.] 

Jit. [Who has been making several attempts to talk to Mrs. 
T., at last, rising.] I must get into that quarrel somehow. 
[Aloud.] Beg pardon, but I don't think you like me. [She 
turns away.] I thought not. But suppose, my dear madam, I 
have information concerning your very sad domestic afflictions 
which may be of service. 

Mrs. T. [Sits, R.] Information about whom ? 

Jit. You must be aware, of course, that we divorce lawyers 
have peculiar experience in these matters, and know the proper 
treatment for all the disorders of the matrimonial constitution. 

Mrs. T. [Laughs^ I hardly think the present little matter 
demands much scientific legal treatment. 

Jit. That shows how little you suspect what proceedings Mr. 
Adrianse is taking. 

Mrs. T. [Rises, with cxiriosity.] Proceedings — how ? 

Jit. Hem ! My information was acquired in my capacity as 

Mrs. T. Well? 

Jit. According to the — hem! — rules of the profession, it can 
only be imparted in my capacity as lawyer. 

Mrs. T. I suppose it only requires the capacity of a human 
being with a tongue in his head to tell what you know. 

Jit. Ah, I see, you are ignorant of law. Of course, then, you 
don't know that I must be your legal adviser before I can speak? 

Mrs. T. I imagine you wish to be hired by me. 

Jit. We don't call it hired, when we speak of lawyers ; we call 
it retained. I have no objection to be retained in the defense 
of a lady so deeply injured as your daughter is by a wicked 
and malevolent husband. Put her cause in my hands, and I will 
insure success. 


Mrs. T. But she has no cause as yet ; there is only a slight 

Jit. [ OratoricaUy.'] It is the cloud presaging the storm ! By- 
and-by there will be lightning, and the tempest will burst. 

Mr.i. T. How poetical ! [^Langhs.'] 

Jit. You laugh ? You think that I am trifling. "What if I, un- 
professionally, come to the point at once and tell you I know of a 
plot against your daughter, by which Mr. Adrianse — 

Mrs. T. [Serious and anxious.'] A plot — what is it ? 

Jit. Am I to be retained, to be consulted, to have charge of 
this matter? 

Mrs. T. If it is so serious, I must have legal advice. 

Jit. I am retained then? 

Mrs. T. Yes, yes. \_Orosses to l.] But the plot? \_Sits r. 
o/l. table.] 

Jit. A month ago, sitting in my office in New York, Mr. 
Adrianse entered, pale as a ghost, and threw my card on the table. 
" I come to you," says he, " to find the address of that de- 

Mrs. T. He wanted a detective ? 

Jit. I gave him the address, he found Burritt — 

Mrs. T. And retained him ? 

Jit. We call it employing when we speak of detectives. He 
employed Burritt exclusively, paying him $25 a day — a large 

Mrs. T. Well? 

Jit. Well, what was he employed for? — don't start, compose 
yourself; I've seen that detective to-day here. He was the messen- 
ger who brought the letter from the Captain to your daughter, 
and carried back the answer. 

Mrs. T. Good heavens ! then Alfred will know all. 

Jit. He has got copies of both letters by this time, no doubt. 

Mrs. T. But the man came from Captain Lynde. 

Jit. Of course; he first worms himself into the Captain's con- 
fidence, and notes down every word he utters ; next, he acts as 
messenger, brings the letter to your daughter, and hears all she's 
got to say; I suppose by this time he's accumulated evidenje 
enough to go to a jury. 

Mrs. T. This is infamous! 

Jit. So it is; but we have learned it in time to circumvent 
the plotters. 

Mrs. T. What do you advise ? 

Jit. See Captain Lynde and warn him ; see your daughter 
and warn her ; see Burritt and bribe him; I know the ropes, I've 
been at it all before. 

DIVORCE. • 51 

Mrs. T. Your confidence quite reassures me; what step shall 
■\ve take first? 

Jit. Go find your daughter; I will seek the Captain and 

Mrs. T. She's in the garden — I will go at once. [Exits, l. c] 

Jit. [Takes out memorandum-hook.'] " Adrianse vs. Adrianse." 
Retained this day for wife — advised, urn, urn. [Writing.'] Two 
daughters — two divorces. Why can't every family do as well? 
It would make our profession as lucrative as a politician's. 

Enter Lu, c. 

Lu. He's coming! He's coming ! 

Jit. The Captain ? 

Lu. No, De Witt ; he's coming over the lawn. I'm ready to 

Jit. Don't drop. [Aside.] I'd quite forgotten about our 
friend De Witt. [Lu sinks in chair.] 

Lu. Don't desert me now, Mr Jitt, I feel so weak. 

Jit. Don't, don't feel weak; I don't know what to do with 
weak women — there's nothing about 'em in the statutes. Wake 
up, this is just the time to give my plan a trial. 

Lu. Oh, yes ! [Starts iq:).] I'm to put him in the closet for 
a witness, while I slap your face. 

Jit. No, no — you've got things mixed. Lord ! she's out of 
her head. I hear him coming. [Lu screams and sinks in Jit.'s 
arms.] This is the biggest case I ever had on my hands. 

Molly rwis in from r. 

Molhj. Oh, Lord! was it you, ma'am, that screamed? Shure, 
she's fainted ! 

Lu. [Recovering, gets L.] No — I'm better now. 

Jit. Then think of business — your husband's coming; let me 
arrange for you. This girl will make a first-rate witness, won't 

Mol. Shure, I can make first-rate cake; but I never made a 

Ji^. Well, some witnesses are cakes, sure enough. Come 
here ; I want you to go into that room and close the door ; if you 
hear any loud talking, you must remember what is said ; if you 
hear sounds of violence, you must run out on the instant — do 
you understand ? 

Mol. Faith, I do, aisy enough. But are you and the master 
going to have a fight? Sure, I think he'll warm you. 

Jit. Go in and be quiet. 

52 ' DIVORCE. 

Mol. That I will. [Going.'] WeW, it's quare, anyhovf. lExits 

D. R. 1 E.] 

Jit. Now, summon up your courage; remember your wrongs. 
Talk to him as only a wife can talk — get him to burst into a 
paradoxysm of rage, and he bursts the chain that binds you to 
him, forever. [Exits, L. 1 E.] 

Lu. I know I'll make a mess of it. [Sinks in chair, L..] I'm 
88 cold as ice — I wish I'd never been such a fool. 

De Witt enters, c. l. 

After all, De Witt is not so bad. 

De Witt. Why, Lu, my love? 

Lu. [Seated, l.] Oh — is that you ? 

De W. I thought I'd run over and see you, although you told 
me on Tuesday you didn't care if I never came again. I know, 
of course, it was more of your silliness, and here I am again, 
[Leans over chair and kisses her.'] You dear little goosey. 

Ial He's treating me like a child again. You think I am 
silly, do you ? 

De W. [Going to table and putting down hat and duster.] 
That's what you've called yourself a dozen times. Come, let's 
be friends. [Returns and offers ha^id.] 

Lu. [Rises.] It's contemptible to rake up the confessions I 
made in our little reconciliations. De AVitt, you are a mean 

De W. Are you going to be as bad as ever, birdie ? or, is this 
only a little storm that will clear away. 

Lu. Bad! I'm bad, am I? What'll you call me next, I 
wonder? What do you mean by bad, sir? 

De W. Oh, I only meant in comparison with your other 

Im. I'm only comparatively bad, am I ? There are ivorse, 
are there? Oh! thank you, very much. 

De W. I wouldn't get in a rage for nothing. Just say, am I 
welcome or not ? 

Lu. No, you're not ! 

De W. [Movement.] Then I'll go back. 

1m. [Seizing him.] No, you won't. 

De W. [Laughing^ Then I won't. Anything to please 

Lu. Anything to torment me, you mean ; you love to do that. 
[Trying to weep — violent sobs.] 

De W. [Approaching.] Lu, let me just say one word. 

/>w. [Retreats to L. h.] Keep your hands off me — I'm 


De W. [^Astonished.'] Afraid of what ? 

Lu. I'm afraid of your violence. 

De W. The violence of my love ? 

Lu. No, sir, of your anger. You are full of suppressed rage ; I 
see it in your face. I'm afraid of you, I tell you. 

De W. Ha, ha, ha ! this is too good ! — afraid of my violence ; 
why, with my rheumatism you'd double me up in no time. 

Lu. Likely, indeed, you old men are just as vicious as you can 

De W. Old men, eh ? you married me, old as I am. 

Lu. With all your rheumatism, and the gout, and goodness 
knows what all, you'd like to box my ears often. 

De W. {^Severely.'] Lu — stop — you wish to make me angry. 

Lu. Oh, we'll have a storm presently ; Mr. Amiability can't 
keep his temper forever, I see. 

De W. Oh, you want to try my patience, eh? Very good. 
[^Laughs.'] But you see I knew what to expect before I married 
a young wife, and prepared myself. 

Lu. You provoking wretch, do you mean you prepared for 
outbursts of temper on my part? 

De W. I did. I had an organ-grinder to play all day under 
my window — I hired a saw-filer to file his saws a couple of hours, 
each day, in my back-yard — I invested in some wild-cat stock, 
and otherwise exercised my fortitude, until the wedding-day. 

Lii. [Savagely, close to him.'] Then you mean to say that I 
have a bad temper — that I'm a scold — that my voice is like a 
saw-grinder, and an organ-filer, and that I'm a wild-cat — do you, 
do you ? 

De W. [Laughing.'] Not exactly. You misinterpret. 

Lu. [Fanning herself violently.] You dare t6 use language 
like that to me — and you won't get angry. 

De W. [Laughs.] I should be a fool, to get angry with a 
little simpleton. 

Lu. I'm a fool, am I? 

De W. Oh, I don't go so far as to say that. 

Lu. You'd provoke your wife if she were a saint. 

De W. . [Laughing.] I should like a saint to try on. 

Lu. Oh, this is too much, you deceitful, abominable— take 
that — [Slaps his face.] 

JiTT and Molly burst out, De W. holding his face, looks from, 
one to the other, Lu walks up and down in rage. 

Jitt. [ Orator ically.] Miserable man, what have you done? 
[Qrosses to c] 


De W. [r.] Eh? 

Jit. With one blow you have shattered your domestic happi- 
ness to fragments, you have called upon your head the scorn of 
men, you have aimed a stroke at civilization, you have struck at 
the holiest of creation, and you have broken half a dozen statutes 
at a single blow ! 

De W. What is the idiot talking about ? 

Jit. Behold your victim! — she flew to your bosom for protec- 
tion. [Lu sinks on chair, l.] You have felled her to the earth. 
Coward ! 

De W. I felled her to the earth ? Are you mad ? 

Lu. l^Aside to Jit.~\ Don't say any more. It's all wrong. 

Jit. What's wrong? 

Lu. There's a mistake. 

Jit. A mistake? 

Lu. Instead of it being my ears that were boxed — 

Jit. lAghast.'] AVell ? 

Lu. It was his. 

Jit. How could you — you make me look like a fool. {Stage 
up and down, c] 

Lu. We both do. 

Molly. {Near Xu.] Shure, I think I begin to understand 
now, ma'am, ah ! worra, worra, more power to your arm. 

IjU. Molly, leave the room instantly. 

Mol. I will, ma'am. {Aside, going r.] Aha ! they all do 
it; wait till I get a husband. {Exits, r. 2 e.] 

De W. {Coming down, c. r.] I think I understand. This 
was a plot of some kind against me, and this crazy person, here — 

Jit. {Comes down, c] Hem! Jitt, sir. Templeton Jitt, 
attorney and counsellor, your wife's legal adviser, divorces pro- 
cured without publicity, my card, sir? {Crosses R.] 

De W. [c, tossing card aside, serio%isly.~\ I see. It is as bad 
as that, is it? I thought you a wayward child — [Lu turns.^ Don't 
speak, I can't bear to hear the voice of a deceitful woman. You 
wish to have a separation? — you may have it ; your lawyer here 
will tell you the way; get it as quickly as you can. I will fix an 
allowance with which you will be satisfied, and as you need 
mouey now, I leave it here {Places wallet on table, L.], and so I go 
back to the city. {Exits c, ojf l.] 

Lu. {Up after him. Jit. crosses to take money.'] Oh, De 
Witt, don't go. 

Jit. {Hands her the wallet.'] Cheer up, it's all right, at last. 

I/u. {Flying at him, and throws w<dlet at him.] You miserable, 
little, plotting creature, you have ruined me! {Angrily towards 


Jit [^Behind tahle^ Be calm ! It's all right, you are free, 
I'll get you the divorce in six weeks. 

Lu. I don't want it. 

Jit. What? You must have it! I'm not going to let you lose 
so good an opportunity ; it may never occur again. 

Lu. [r.] I shall never see him any more ? 

Jit. Oh, yes, you may, after you are separated. 

Lu. I have lost everything by my folly ! 

Jit. I'll get you ten thousand a year. 

Lu. My conscience reproaches me; he is all kindness and 

Jit. So he is. We don't meet such men every day, we must 
make the most of them when we do. [^Puts wallet in pocket^ 

Lu. [^Weeping.'] I'll write to him to-night, I'll explain all. 

Jit. Send the letter to me, I'll take it [^e], and take care 
of it. 

Lu. Will you try and see him? 

Jit. I will. [JL.sifZe.] I'll serve the papers on him myself. 

Lu. \Sohhin.g.'\ Do all you can for me. 

Jit. Rely on me. 

Lti. \_Going, R.] Bring him back to me. Oh! oh! tell him, 
I'll do everything to please him ; I never knew how generous he 
was, and how foolish I am; I'll put up with one new dress a week! 
Oh ! oh ! oh ! I'll never say a cross word to him again. Oh! oh! 
you mean little spider ! I hate you ! {^Exits, R. 1 e.] 

Jit. Splendid ! That case goes on smoothly. I'll have 'em di- 
vorced before they know it. [ Goes wp.] 

Fanny and Captain enter, l. c. 

My fair client and the gay deceiver, I must see Burritt and give 
him a hint. \^Exits, L. c] 

Captain, [l.] It was so good, so kind of you to permit me 
to come once more. 

Fanny. I resolved to see you against everybody's advice, be- 
cause I wish to show them I am superior to any scandal that may 
be uttered. [Dratving her hand away.] Do not come often; 
you may wish to come, because you say you always like to see 
me; yet that is all wrong; I am a wife and you are not my hus- 

Capt. That's a bitter truth to my ears. But I will do any- 
thing to make you happy. 

Fan. It will not make me happier for you to be away; but it 
will please the world, and it will perhaps satisfy my husband. 

Capt. You will grieve a little, then, when I am gone. 


Fan. [r.] I shall be sad to think a causeless jealousy has 
driven you from your home, for mamma's house has always been 
your home. 

Capt. And I had hoped to be so happy here, and to make 
you so happy. Only think, I had arranged for a little water 
party for this evening on the lake — men all hired, and the boats 
— and came to ask you all. 

Fan. There is no harm in that. If mamma and Lu and 
Grace consent, we'll go. 

Capt. I shall always look back on this night as the happiest 
in my life. [^Gently takes her /lanrfs.] 

Fan. Foolish fellow ! you ought to have a wife to love ; you 
would be good to her. 

Capt. I shall never marry, because I can love no one, as I — 
but there. 

Fan. I'll go find mamma. [Twvvjs away, going up.'\ 

Capt. [^Crosses to B..^ And if she refuses? — but she won't re- 
fuse me. 

Fa7i. Not if you promise her to never call again. Make it 
your own proposal. 

Capt. It shall be done as you wish. 

Fan. [^Leads him to L.] Go into the library till I call you. 

Capt. ^Crossing to L.. r).'\ Good-bye for a little while. \_Tak- 
ing her hands.'] What a villain the man must be who causes you 
a moment's pain. 

Fan. [^Smiling.l You would not, I suppose. 

Capt. I would lay down my life for you. [_IIe stops to kiss 
her hand, she withdraws it.] 

Fan. I believe you. Go — mamma is coming. [He exits, L.] 

Duncan enters, c. 

What — is it you, Harry ? 

Duncan, [l.] Yes, it's I. 

Fan. Where have you been for the last week ? [She sits at 
table, R., jjicks np hook and turns over leaves during scene.] 

Dun. [Aside.] Now that I am face to face with her, I can't 
find courage to mention my unpleasant errand. [Aloud.] I've 
been doing duty as a sort of missionary [Aside.] to the uncivil- 
ized and barbarous husband. 

Grace runs in door, r. 2 e. 

Grace. I thought it was you. I saw you when you were way 
down the road. [Aside.] I'm so glad you've come; I've got 
something to tell you. 


Dun. [l., whispering I^ What is it ? 

Grace, [c, whispering.'] Auntie is awful mad about our in- 
teresting ourselves about Alfred. 

Dun. [Same.] She is ? 

Grace. [Saine.] Yes— she calls it interfering, and scolded 
me awfully. Be prudent. 

Dun. [Same.'] But I ought to tell Fanny what her husband 
says ; I owe it as a duty to them. 

Grace. [Same.] You owe it as a duty to me, not to get me 
blown up about it. Alfred's big enough to deliver his own mes- 

Dun. [Same.] Well, I've put my foot in it. 

Grace. [Same.] Then try and keep the rest of your body 
out of it, eh ? Here's Aunt Clara ; not a word about Alfred, or 
I don't know what'll hapi:)en. 

Dun. I'll try. [They separate and look embarrassed.] 

Mrs. Ten Eyck enters, c. l. 

Mrs. Ten Eyck. [Goes to Fan.] Fanny, you did wrong to 
elude me ; you know I wished to see you before Edward came. 

Fan. [ Coldly, still turning over j)ictures.] I am always doing 
wrong, mamma; I supj^ose I shall never do the proper thing 
any more. 

Mrs. T. Well, its done and can't be helped ; we must make 
the best of it — why, Harry. 

Dun. [His manner is embarrassed all through the following 
scene, exchanges glances with Grace.] Delighted to see you, very, 
that is, I hojje you are well. 

3Irs. T. Why, what's the matter? 

Dun. Oh, nothing, nothing. 

Mrs. T. [Looks at Grace, aside.] There is something behind 
all this ; he must have come with a purpose, and the little minx 
has warned him. [Aloud and sweetly.] Be seated, Harry. 
Grace get Harry a chair. [Crosses and sits r. o/l. table.] 

Grace. [Places a chair for Mrs. T. first.] O, yes, auntie. 

Dun. [ When she brings it L., aside.] She seems all right. 

Grace. [Same.] Don't be too sure. 

Mrs. T. [Sits, l. c] Have you seen any of our old friends 
in the city? [Grace crosses beddes Mrs. T.'s chair.] 

Dun. [l.] Hem, not particularly. 

Mrs. T. [Carele§dy.] Anything interesting stirring? 

Dun. Um, no, nothing. [Grace delighted.] 

Mrs. T. [Aside.] He has seen Alfred and he's full of the 


Grace. [Dotvn c] Harry's tired, auntie ; I know he'd like 
to row me about the creek, wouldn't you, Harry? let's go. 

Dun. [ Up.'] Certainly, most happy. [Starts c] 

Mm. T. Oh, don't run away. [They stop.] Well, I see you 
are bent upon it, go along you foolish things. 

Grace. [ Going.'] Come, Harry. [Both c] 

Mrs. T. By the way, Harry, you've seen Alfred ? 

Dun. Ah, Alfred! [Looks at Grace, Fan. looks up.] 

Grace. Oh, dear, it's all up now. 

Dun. [Aside.] I needn't say what he said. [Aloud.] Yes, 
I saw him a little bit. 

Fan. When did you see Alfred, Harry? 

Dun. To-dav! 

Mrs. T. Ah, in the city? 

Dun. Oh, no, just down in the village here. 

Fan. [Closes hook and eagerly ?[ So near? 

Dun. Yes, he said he wanted to be near. 

Mrs. T. His wife? 

Dun. No, his child. 

Mrs. T. [Severely.] Indeed! 

Grace. [Despairingly.] You've done it. 

Dun. Have I? I wish I were dumb. Tell me what to say? 

Mrs. T. Do you know that Edward Lynde is here? 

Dun. Yes, I saw him as I came in. 

Fan. [r.] I supposed it would be considered very improper 
for him to call. 

Dun. [Looks at Grace, she nods eagerly.] Oh, very, yes, 
very — very improper. 

Fan. [Severely.] And the fact of the impropriety Avill be 
duly reported to my husband. 

Dun. [Grace shakes her head.] Oh, no, not at all ! I won't 
say a word about it. 

Grace, [l. c] You knort, Harry, we none of us wanted 
Edward to come. 

3Irs. T. Grace, this does not concern you. [Grace looks up 
cross and sulleji.] Of course we did not wish him to come, but 
it was natural, being an old friend, that he should call. You can 
tell Alfred this on your return. At least treat us fairly, although 
you are his agent, you know. 

Dim. [With dignity.] But I'm not his agent, I don't like 
the word. Any gentleman may bring a message from another. 

Fan. [Seated, r.] A message — you have a message from 
Alfred ? 

Dun. [To Grace.] You see [Doubtfully.] I can't tell a lie 
and say no! 


Grace. [C^ L. c] That's the inconvenience of being a 

Fan. If Harry does not wish to speak, I will not press him. 
If his message is not fit to be uttered by him, it is not fit to be 
heard by me. 

Mrs. T. [l. at table.'] I insist upon the whole truth. 

Grace, [l. c, whis2iers.'\ Try and soften it. 

Dun. [ITMspers.] A good idea, I'll soften it. [^^oitr?.] 
Of course it's foolish for liim to get angry about Lynde, but the 
fact is the thought of his being near his wife maddens him, and 
he swears he will never — 

Grace. \^Low.'\ Soften it, soften it— for goodness sake. 

Dun. \^Low.~\ I will. [^Ifowrf.] That he can never receive 
Fanny again if she receives Lynde. [Loi^.] Was that soft? 

Grace. \^De8pairing'\ Too soft ! [ Going up.] 

Dun. Don't leave me. 

Fan. [r., at table.] That is his fixed resolve? 

Mrs. T. [^Crossing to her.] My child, you cannot be thrown 
ofl^ like that. It is criminal to marry a girl and then cast her 
off for such a trifle. 

Dun. \_Advancmg, L. c] There's another thing — he spoke 
about you. 

Grace. Why couldn't you leave that out? 

Dun. But I think it very appropriate, I just remembered it. 

Mrs. T. \_Breaking from. Fan., who has tried to restrain her.] 
I will hear it, my love. Well, sir, about me? 

Dun. \_Crosses to c] He says you encourage Fanny in her 
determination to oppose his wishes, and that you render a recon- 
ciliation impossible. 

3lrs. T. I have a right to stand by my child, since she has 
stood by me at the sacrifice of her home. I have not been an 
enemy of your friend so far, Mr. Duncan. I have done the best 
I could for him, but if he affronts me further, let him'look to it. 

Dun. Mr. Duncan! I'm scratched out. [To Grace.] 

Grace, [l.] We are both lost. 

Mrs. T. Grace, it is very unbecoming in you to remain here 
listening to all this. 

Grace. \_To Dun.] I told you so. She's going to send me 

Mrs. T. Grace! 

Fan. [Stage, R.] Let him finish first, mamma. I do not 
care how many hear the shame with which he loads me in send- 
ing such messages. 

Dun. I have kept the rest back, but I suppose I ought to say 
it all since I have said any part of it. 


Fan. [r., turns, clings to her mother^ The worst is to come. 

Dun. [l. c] It is for you alone. 

Fan. 8peak it aloud. 

Dun. He says that if after this warning you continue to re- 
ceive the visits of Captain Lynde — [Pawse.] 

Fan. [Scornfully.] Well, the penalty? 

Dun. He will consider you unfit to have charge of his child. 

Fan. Of his child? 

Dun. [l. c] And he will take forcible means to remove the 
boy to his own home. 

Fan. Take my child ! Mother, do you hear ? He would not 
dare! Let him touch my child if he can. 

Dun. My duty is done. 

Fan. [Crosses to R. c] Tell him from me that all is over 
between us. He has branded me with the last mark of disgrace, I 
am unworthy to rear my own child. If there is justice in the land 
I will have it upon him if he dares to take Alfred from me. 
[Throics herself on Mrs. T.'s neck.'] 

Dun. It shall be my last message, and then I have done with 
the quarrel. 

Mrs. T. [Grosses to Dun.'] It would have been better if you 
had never undertaken it; I may forgive you, Mr. Duncan, but 
until I do, I prefer that we should not meet again. 

Grace. [At L. table.] Oh, aunt, you are going to forbid him 
the house. 

Mrs. T. Yes, and to show him the ungrateful part he is play- 
ing towards us all, I forbid you to speak to him again. 
Grace. Oh, aunt. [Sinks in chair.] 

Dun. [Takes hat from chair.] What I did I thought it right 
to do. If I am right I am willing to wait for the future to justify 
me. [Advancing!] Good-bye, Grace, perhaps all will yet be 
well, if not, forgive me any pain I have caused you and try to 
forget me. 

Scene Closes. 

Scene II. — An apartment in the village inn. 

Alfred enters, following Burritt from r. 

Burritt. Well, sir, I've returned from the little expedition as 
you see, sir ; the worst is come. 
Alfred. The worst? 
Bur. Your fears was correct, sir. 


Al. That scoundrel then visits there? 

Bur. Worse than that. 

Al. Speak out, then, what is the worst? 

Bur. She writes to him, they correspond ; their infamy, sir, is 
got itself down to black and white. 

Al. What! I'll not believe it. 

Bur. I took the letters sir; got myself hired by the Captain, 
as I loafed about the place he's stopping at; got copies of both 
letters, sir. Do you want to see 'em? 

Al. Do you think I wish to drive myself mad? No — destroy 
them. I only want to be convinced that I have not misjudged 
her, that she is hiding a guilty heart beneath this effrontery, and 
then — You say you were hired by the man — did you speak of me 
in any way ? 

Bur. Just enough to draw him out. He said he pitied you, 
kind of him, wasn't it, sir? Called you "poor fellow," and said 
you was a little touched up here. {^Points to Jorehead.'\ 

Al. [Cro.sse.s to L.] Enough! Enough! 

Bihr. I pretended I'd been groom at Mrs. Ten Eyck's and 
knew a little of the story. 

Al. I tell you I wish to hear no more. Curse my fate that 
makes me use such instruments as these to do such work. 

Duncan enters, l. 

What ! Harry back already ? 

Duncan. \_Moodily, gets c] Yes. 

Al. [c] What answer does she send — you need not say 
anything about — about that man, curse him — I know fill about 
that ; Burritt has told me. 

Dun. [c] Burritt ? 

Al. The detective ; there he is. 

Bur. [r. c] Servant, sir. 

Dun. \_Orosse8 to c] What? You have employed a detective, 
you have put a hound on your wife's footsteps ? Alfred, this is 

Al. I must know all. 

Dun. For shame! You do her an infamous wrong. 

Al. Oh, you believe in her still, do you? Get married, and 
you'll understand women better. 

Dun. I tell you, your wife is above suspicion; why, she showed 
me the letter Lynde wrote her. 

Bur. [r.] Corroborates me, sir, you see. 

Al. [c] Oh, she did ; which letter ? 

Dun. How do I know which letter ? 

62 ' DIVORCE. 

Bur. The one there was least harm in, no doubt, sir. 

Dun. Confound you, you rascal, what do you mean ? If you 
utter another word, I'll throw you out at the window. 

Bur. Nice language for a parson — I don't think. 

AL. Come, come, the man serves me ; I won't have him' 

Diui. I tell you what it is, Adrianse, it's my solemn belief 
Fanny would do everything you wished, if you didn't threaten 
her, and insist upon obedience and all that nonsense. 

Al. Has she not left my house ? Has she not encouraged that 
man to visit her? I tell you there shall be an end of all this. 
What is her answer to my message? 

Dun. [c] Just what I expected. Since it was a thi'eat, she 
will make no promise, and she will keep her child. 

Al. {^Crossing to n.l Will she? Burritt! 

Bur. Ready, sir ! 

AL Come to my room. 

Dun. Then you don't wish me to serve you any longer? 

AL No, you pretend to be my friend and you take their jmrt 
against me. I was a fool to send you there ! 

Dun. And I was a fool to go. 

AL [Crosses back to c] You have made me feel that I have 
no friend but myself, and such as I pay to serve me ! Come, 

Dun. Don't take the trouble to leave the room in order to get 
rid of me. [J.s{<ie.] I've made a bad day of it, and I think 
I'd better retire from the world. \^Aloud.^ Good-bye, old fellow. 
If it's any consolation, you may know that I'm about as wretched 
as you ifcw. \_Aside, going.'] This is the result of my first mis- 
sionary work. The South Sea cannibals couldn't have treated 
me worse. [Exits, L. 1 e.] 

AL Now he is gone, — to business. The child must be taken 
from her. 

Bur. Good enough, sir. We can get a habeus corpus first 
thing in the morning, and bring it into court. 

AL You fool ! Do you suppose I mean to crawl through the 
dirty by-ways of the law to get my own flesh and blood ? 

Bur. But the law is the only way. 

AL Do I look like a man who would sit biting his nails and 
gnawing his lips behind a fool of a lawyer, in a court, when I can 
reach out my hand and take what I want? [Going, R.] 

Bur. But it ain't legal. 

AL [Turns back with vehemence.'] I'm no lawyer, but I 
understand this : Wherever I can lay my hand on my child, I 
can take him — the others must go to law to get him from me. 


Bur. Yes, sir, that's so. 

Al. They watch him well, but I will have him. Come! 
[Crosses to R. h.] 

Bur. What, to-night ? 

Al. They have got the alarm ; to-morrow he may be out of 
my reach. 

Bur. It's a risky business, sir, for me. I'm not a father, and 
if I break into houses it's felony. 

Al. How much money do you Avant? 

Bur. Perhaps I can figure it up as we go along. 

Al. Name your price, then, for it must be done to-night. 
\_Exeunt, R.] 


Scene III. — Same as Act Sd scene 1st. Darkness groios quite 
dense as scene progresses. Captain, Mrs. Ten Eyck and 
Fanny enter from r., with shawls, hats, etc., attired for the 
water party. 

Captain, [c, assisting Mrs. T. toith shawls.'] I'm so glad you 
consented to come, you'll find the sail pleasant. 

Fanny, [r., putting her hat on.] Mamma wishes us all to lock 
ourselves up, as if we were in a convent. 

Mrs. Ten Eyck. [l.] Well, my dear, say no more about that. 
If you will have your way, you must take the consequences. 

Capt. [p., up a little.'] The only consequence will be a de- 
lightful excursion and a glorious evening altogether. 

Grace enters, r. 1 e. 

Grace. Here's your heavy wrap, aunt. [ Crosses to her.] 

Mrs. T. Thank you, my dear. 

Capt. [Laughing.] Grace looks very ungracious. 

Mrs. T. [Going up, L. c] I rely upon you to console her. 

Grace. I don't want consolation. [Goes to Fail.] 

Capt. [c] That's lucky, for I mean to devote myself to 
Fanny. [Carriage heard.] 

Fan. That's baby. I'm so glad he came before we went out. 
[ Up stage, looks off through door.] 

Mrs. T. Why so, he's perfectly well. 

Fan. I'm foolish, perhaps, but I did so want to see him, to 
know I had him still with me. 

Mrs. T. What nonsense! Don't let that ridiculous talk of 
Harry Duncan's annoy you. Come, we must be going. 


Lu enters, R. 1 E. 

1m. {^Dressed.'] I'm ready, if you are. \^Throws herself in 
chair, R.] 

Capt. What, another melancholy face ? 

Mrs. T. I really don't know what's come over Lu. 

Lu. Ruin and wretchedness has come over Lu, that's all. 
Don't trouble yourselves about me ; otherwise I'm quite well. 

Capt. Gad, it's lucky I proposed this excursion ; the house 
would become a perfect hospital in a few days. 

Fan,, [c] You all go. I want to see Alfred. I'll follow 
you. {^Crosses down, L., Mrs. T. goes up^ 

Capt. \_Crosses to her.'] Oh, now — I say, don't back out at the 
last moment. 

Fan. I'll come. Don't be afraid of that. 

Mrs. T. Let us leave her, I understand her feelings. Give 
me your arm. 

Capt. With pleasure. \^Aside, as he is going tip.] This knocks 
my i)r()jected tete-a-tete in the head. {_Gives arm to Mrs. T. and 
they go off, c] 

Lu. Come, Grace, you are miserable, too, ain't you ? 

Grace. Yes, that I am. 

Lu. Come along with me, then ; we can talk over our ruin 
and wretchedness together. \_Both exit, c. Ij., passing 

Molly, who enters, followed by Jim, carrying the child in his arms, 
closely ivrapped in shawls. Fan. runs tip and meets them. 

Fan. Ah, my baby. 

Molly. Whist! you'll wake him. 

Fan. Is he asleep? \_Takes child tenderly.] 

Jim. Fell asleep on the way home. 

Fan. My darling — my darling ! Who shall take you from 
me? \_Kisses child ~\ 

MoL Shure, ma'am, let me take him to his room. 

Fan. No, I will take him ; run and light the lamp. [^Both 
exit in room, r. c, rip steps.] 

Jim.. Well, she loves her baby better than she loves her hus- 
band, that's clear. But they are all that way; soon as there's a 
baby, the old man has to take a back seat. \^Carriage heard.] 
Who's that? Company at this hour? \_Turm tip lamp on table, 
R.] There — can't see who it is. {^At door, l. c] Old style 
wagon — old lady getting out. 


Mrs. Kemp entering, l. c. 

Mrs. Kemp. Well, Jim, that you ? Don't stare so ; where 
are tlie folks ? 

Jim. [r.] Gone out. 

Mrs. K. What, everybody ? \_Do'wn l.] 

Jim. Everybody but Mrs. Adrianse. She's going right away, 
though. Up-stairs with the baby now. 

Mrs, K. Tell her I'm here ; she's the one I want to see. [Jim 
exits into room, r. c] Rather glad the others are out of the way. 
If I didn't think I'd do some good, I'd never have given my old 
bones such a rattling as they've had on that road to-night. 

Fanny enters, follotved by Jim. 

Fanny. Why, Mrs. Kemp, what a surprise ! 

Mrs. K. [l.] Well, my precious, and how's the diamond of 
diamonds ? 

Fan. [c.l Baby's very well, indeed. Asleep now. 

Mrs. K. \Low.'] Send that gaping goose away. 

Fan. James, wait for me at the gate; I wish you to walk 
down to the boat with me. 

Jim. \_Up stage, R.] Yes'm. \_Asidel] That's the way — 
company's always coming when the family's going out. \_Exits, 
L. c. windoiv. Fan. makes her sit.~\ 

Mrs. K. {Sits, L., Fan. kneels^ My love, I've come eight 
miles in an hour, which is rather hard on my venerable Dobbin, 
to see you. I couldn't wait till to-morrow, and you'll know the 
reason why, when I tell you that Harry Duncan came for me. 

Fan. [Reserved at once.'] Harry Duncan — who sent him ? 

Mrs. K. His own good heart, which prompts him to try every 
means of saving you and your husband. 

Fan. Mr. Duncan has already received discouragement 
enough in this house for his interference. 

Mrs. K. Yes, and he got worse from your husband. He's a 
martyr — poor boy; he resembles that early Christian who was 
ground up between two mill-stones. 

Fan. Well, the meauing of all this? 

Mrs. K. [l.] That I have come to continue his work. As 
I'm not in love with any young person here, your mother can't 
punish me as she did him. You must make it up with your 

Fan. It is useless to say that. If I were willing, he has gone 
too far for me ever to recall our former love. 


Mrs. K. If you can't love him, you can't, of course. But 
you can always do your duty. 

Fan. And that duty is ? 

Mrs. K. To go to him at once ! 

Fan. And ask his pardon for having offended ? 

Mrs. K. No, you needn't ask his, and he needn't ask yours. 
Go back to him, open the door, walk in with your child, " Well, 
Alfred, here we both are," that's all you have to say. 

Fan. And make a solemn promise never again to see any man 
whom he dislikes? 

Mrs. K. Well, that's not hard, is it ? 

Fan. Close the door against my mother ? 

Mrs. K. That'll come all right yet. Your mother won't die 
of it — I'll come over and console her. 

Fan. You are trifling with me. 

Mrs. K. Because it is only a trifle which is making all this 
trouble. I know the effect upon husbands of a little submission. 
Give way to their wishes but the lightest bit, and they'll really 
let you do as you please — fight them step by step, and they be- 
come as obstinate as jackasses. 

Fan. [r.] But if I go back, it will be an acknowledgement 
that I'm in the wrong. 

Mrs. K. So you are as long as you stay away. 

Fan. You don't know the sting which suspicion of unfaith- 
fulness causes a wife. 

Mrs. K. Don't I? There's not a wife in the world — no mat- 
ter how ugly she may be — that her husband does not believe 
to possess some dangerous attraction for other men. 

Fan. I have tried to do everything, tried to meet his chang- 
ing fancies, but in vain ; his torment comes from within. He was 
never meant for a husband, at least, not for mine. 

Mrs. K. That's free-love doctrine and nonsense. He was 
meant for what he is, and you must make the best of it. Come 
— there's a dear girl — listen to my advice. 

Fan. I will try once more, if you think it for the best ; I will 
write to him. 

Mrs. K. Go, and take the child. 

Fan. No, no ! I must be certain first that I will be allowed 
to keep him. I mean to send baby away to-morrow; I won't 
leave him here till I know what to expect. 

Mrs. K. No faith in your husband, eh ? Confidence all gone ? 
Well, you may write; but if you don't put any heart in your 
letter, it will be useless. 

Fan. I'll write. Don't fear for the rest. If Alfred would 
but say the word, and lift the mantle of shame he has thrown 


about me, I could still respect, still love the father of my child. 
l^In 3Irs. K.'s arms.'] 

Mrs. K. Good ! my little pearl, and he shall do it, too ; I'll see 
to that. 

Jim appears at door. 

Jim. {_Getting R. c] They've sent for you, ma'am. 

Mrs. K. Run along, my dear, and I'll be oft', too. [Starts wp.] 

Fan. You are not going to stop with us to-night? 

Mrs. K. No, I'm going to see your husband and make love to 
him on your account. 

Fan. To-night? Now? 

Mrs K. Certainly, I never stop when I've made up my mind. 
Come, I'll drive you to the boat, and be off". 

Fan. You have raised my courage so — I feel as if I — 

Mrs. K. As if you could come wdth me. [Fan. nods.] Come, 
my pet, that's like a true woman. 

Fan. Yes, I will make the sacrifice ; it will be all the greater, 
because I risk a last affront. 

Mrs. K. No fear ! Things begin to brighten. 

Fan. I will follow you in all things. 

Jim. [ Up R.] Shall I wait for you, ma'am ? 

Fan. No — go back to the boat, tell Captain Lynde I beg to 
be excused — that — that — I am ill. Come, my dear friend, I will 
go anywhere you wish. \_Going up, c] 

Mrs. K. Come, my darling ; unless I am greatly mistaken, to- 
morrow will find you an entirely happy woman. \_Exeunt, l. c. 

Jim. [Solus^ Tell Captain Lynde I'm ill. ■ I wonder who 
the lies are charged to in the next world which servants are 
compelled to tell in this. There's some game up. Nobody left in 
the house now except the baby and nurse. [Goes to room, r. c] 
I say ! * 

Molly, top of steps, appears folding baby's things. 

Molly. Well ! 

Ji7n. All right there ? 

Mol. Yes. 

Jim. We're all out doAvn here. I'll turn the light down, you 
come and lock up after me. 

Mol. Shure, I won't come down till you're gone. 

Jim. Why not ? 

Mol. Because you'd be talking nonsense to me, and keepin' 
me away from the baby. 


Jim. What's the harm. All the nurses leave the babies ; so 
the comic papers say. 

Mol. Go 'long wid ye, now. [Putting things on chair.'\ 

Jim. Ah, come down. 

Mol. What'll Icomefor? 

Jim. To hear what I've got to say to you. [Turns lamp down 
on R. table.^ 

Mol. Don't do that! I'm afraid of you in the dark. [Com- 
ing down, Jim clasps her, r.] 

Jim. I've got you. 

Mol. [l.] If it wasn't for fear of waking the baby I'd scream. 
Ye know ye've got the advantage of me. 

Jim,. Walk down a little way with me. 

Mol. I can't leave the child. 

Jim. [Closing the doors, L. c, and bolting them.'] Come by thie 
back door, and sit there with me. 

3Iol. What for? 

Jim,. I want to ask you an important question. 

Mol. What's that ? 

Jim. [Hesitating — clasping her waist and leading her L. 1. E.] 
How would you like to be naturalized and become an American 
citizen ? 

Mol. An American ! Shure can I drop the Irish ? 

Jim. Of course — get naturalized. 

Mol. How'll I get naturalized ? 

Jim. By marrying me. 

Mol. Faith its an expensive job, then. [Exeunt, l. 1 e.] 

Music till end. Stage quite dark. Burritt appears at ivindow 
muffled up, and using dark lantern. He tries the door, L. c. 
It does not yield. He returns to window, raises sash, enters 
quickly and softly, looks round, and then returns to window and 
beckons Alfred. 

Bnrritt. [l.] Rather chilly these nights, sir. 
Alfred. I do not feel it. Where is the child ? 
Bur. In there. 

Al. Go and open the door. [ Goes off, R.] 
Bur. [Dotvn L. c, unlocking the door.] I don't like this, it's 
a thief's job. 

Molly. [ Outside, L. H.] Who's there ? 

Bur. He's waked the nurse. [Puts lantern down.'] 


Molly enters, l. 1 e. 

Molly. It's so dark. I thought I saw some one moving in 
baby's room. I'm nearly dead with fright. 

Bur. [Seizing her.'] Silence, or I'll shoot you ! [Mol. 

Fanny runs in, c. 

Fanny. What fear was it impelled me to return? Molly! 
[Mol. makes an effort to speak. Bur. places Jiis hand over her 
ynouth.'] What was that? [Noise of chairs overturning. Child 
calls out, " 3Iamma!"] My boy! [She runs and turns up lamp. 
Al. comes dotvn with child.] 

Child. [Seeing Fan., stretches out its arms.] Mamma! 
Mamma ! 

Fan. Alfred ! Husband ! What would you do ? 

Al. Burritt, clear the way. 

Fan. [ Clutching his arm] You shall not take him from me. 

Al. [Tnjing to shake her off.] Let go ! 

Fan. Where are you taking my child ? 

Al. From the miserable wretch who disgraces him and me. 

Fan. Give him to me ! Give him to me ! 

Al. Look your last on him. You will never see him more. 
[Throxvs her off. Fan. screams, falls, c. Mol. runs to her. Al. 
and Bur. exit with child, l. c] 




Scene. — St. Augustine, Florida. An old house, on the outskirts of 
the old town. Music. Pam is discovered upon steps of house, 
R., smoking a pipe. 

Enter Bueritt, from l. 

Pam. [r.] Well, seen him ? 

Burritt. Yes, and got the sack at last ! 

Pam. Don't want you any more ? 

Bur. No. Paid me in full, and told me to get out ; said that 
now he had his child, and was in a hiding-place so clean out of 
the world as this, he didn't fear nobody; didn't want no help. 

Pam. Then it's all up with us. 

Bur. Lights turned out, and the pianny shut up. We can get 
back to New York as lively as we like. We've made all we can 
ever make out of Mr. Adrianse. 

Christmas, a negro, enters, l., with a hag, or valise. 

Christmas. Mass' Burritt, Mass' Adrianse send me with your 
bag, tell me to take it down to town for you. 

Bur. All right, Christmas. [^Aside to Pam.~\ That darkey's 
sent by Adrianse to see that we clear out of these parts ; you go 
on ; I've got to pay my board bill here, I'll follow. 

Pam. \_To Christ.~\ Come along, Santa Claus! You go 

Christ. All right, massa ! Dis de way. \_Exits, r.] 

Pam. [^Cautiously coming hack^ I say, Burritt. 

Bur. Well ! 

Pam. [r.] I've got a notion we can make something of this 
Adrianse business yet. 

Bur. [l.] No'! How so ? 

Pam. \Mysteriously.'\ Go over! 
Bur. Go over what? 
Pam. Sell out to the other side. 
Bur. What ! To his Avife and mother-in-law ? 
Pam. Exactly. They'd pay five thousand dollars down to 
know wdiere he's hiding with the child. 


Bur. Do you want to insult me, young feller ? Lookee here, 
didn't I take you on, three months ago, to learn you how to be- 
come a detective, didn't I? 

Pam. \^Ahashed.'\ Yes, sir, you did. 

Bur. Then, recollect this ; — our reputation is everything. If 
we was ever found out going over to the enemy, nobody wouldn't 
never trust us. We travel on the confidence of the public. Go, 
young man, never hint no such thing no more. 

Pam. All right, Cap, I ask your pardon. I'll run on and 
catch up with the nigger. \_Exits, R.] 

Bur. I wonder if he suspects me, and was pumping — there he 
goes, if he stops once, or leaves the road, I'll know he's gone back 
to Adrianse — no, he's caught uj) with the — 

Mrs. Ten Eyck enters from house, l. e. 

Ah ! arternoon, ma'am ! {_3feeti7ig Bur.'] 

Mrs. Ten Eyck. [l.] I saw you through the blinds, in com- 
pany with your assistant, but thought it prudent not to show my- 

Bur. [r.] Quite right, too. He's a very evil disposed young 
man, and he might go back to the other party and blow on us. 

Mrs. T. You've just come from the ruins? 

Bur. Yes'm, and a precious tumble-down old place it is for 
anybody, let alone a gentleman born, to hide himself in. 

Mrs. T. And you assure me solemnly that my daughter's hus- 
band and child are there, and that I shall find them to-day. 

Bur. Well, ma'am, when I wrote to Mr. Jitt, in New York, 
to tell you to come down here if you wanted to get on the track, 
I acted square. 

Mrs. T. [ Giving money.'] Here is the first instalment of your 
pay, the rest you shall have when the child is ours. 

Bur. Did you act on the hint I threw out about Adrianse 
having gone out of his head — clean crazy ? 

Mrs. T. It was most timely. Your friend, Mr. Jitt, immedi- 
ately applied for an order of the Court to take him into custody. 

Bur. [r.] Lord, what a spry fellow that Jitt is. Have you 
brought the doctors with you ? 

Mrs. T. One, Dr. Lang He is accustomed to insanity in 
every form. 

Bur. He'll have to get some one to help secure Adrianse. 
Luney as he is, he's a hard bit to tackle. 

Mrs. T. In that case Ave had better take advice. Doctor, 
doctor, won't you come here a moment? \_Calling off at house.] 


Dr. Lang entering from house. 

Dr. Lang. At your service, my clear madam. 

Mrs. T. This person can tell you the state of our patient. 

Dr. [^Eyeing him sharply, crosses c] Ah ! you have seen Mr. 

JBur. [r.] Yes, sir, and strangely he do act, I tell you. 

Dr. [ Crosses c] He acts strangely, does he ? How strangely ? 

JBur. Like a regular lunatic, sir. 

Dr. That's your opinion. I want the facts. 

Bur. Well, sir, in the first place, he don't say much — he's dis- 
inclined to conversation. 

Dr. \_Smiling, glancing towards Mrs. T.] With you? 

Bur. Yes, sir ! The fact is, although I've done him a heap 
of work in my line, and some of it precious dirty, too, he hasn't 
treated me lately like one gentleman should another He always 
seemed to despise me, and you know if it is despisable to do dirty 
work, it's just as despisable to pay for it. 

Dr. [c] Despised you, eh? Although you served his pur- 
poses so well. 

Bur. Yes, he did ; and yet I stuck to him until I found he 
was beginning to prepare to get ready for to commence to kick 
me out, and then I thought he was beginning to lose his reason, 
you see, to become a lunatic ; and I considered, as I ought to do 
him the favor to return evil for good, and let his wife and his 
friends know where he and the child were concealed. 

Dr. Oh, you always had a good heart, Burritt. 

Bur. Oh, bless you, sir, I throw that in. It ain't business, 
but I throw it in ; but, sir, believe me or not, he's gone crazy. I 
swore to it in the affidavits as were sent on — and I stick to it. 
The niggers all call him mad — Miss Penfield calls him mad — and 
she ougiit to know. 

Mrs.T. [l.] Miss Penfield? And who is Miss Penfield ? 

Bur. Belongs down hei'e — daughter of an old navy officer — 
lives near the ruins, and goes over there to draw 'em. She's very 
fond of the babby ; she's the only person Mr. Adrianse allows to 
come near him. 

Mrs. T. This seclusion, this cautiousness — ure they not ad- 
ditional proofs of madness. Doctor? 

Dr. They point that way, of course ; but what we must be 
convinced of is that his insanity is mental, of which the common 
evidences are delusions. 

Mrs. T. What delusion could be greater than that his wife 
was false to him, when he could not even give the slightest proof 
of it. 


Dr. A good many sane men, my dear madam, have suspicions 
of that sort without having legal evidence of the fact. 

Mrs. T. But his Avas not suspicion, it was certainty ; ask this 

Bur. Certainty! Why, bless your medical buttons, he told 
me he was sure she had dishonored him. 

Dr. Does the boy's health suffer? 

Bur. [r.] Why, I says to him, says I — Governor you'll 
kill that boy. 

Dr. And his answer? 

Bur. [r.] He will live as long as his father. We will die 

Mrs. T. [l.] You hear ! no sane man would say a thing so 
heartless as that. Are you not satisfied now that you are justi- 
fied in proceeding under the warrant? 

Dr. I have proof enough to arrest him ; we will see how he 
acts when we have done so. 

Mrs. T. Burritt spoke of some assistance in securing the 

Dr. Well, let Burritt be the man to do it. \_Claps him on 

Bur. It would rather go agin me, sir, to make a prisoner of 
the man that I worked for in a confidential capacity. 

Dr. Thei-e's your soft heart again, eh? 

Bur. Butj then, he never made no friend of me. After all, 
why shouldn't I do a real good action and help him to a safe, 
decent lodging. This place is a killing him, and the baby too. 

3Irs. T. Come, let us lose no time. 

Dr. [^Looking towards house.'] Won't your daughter want to 
accompany us? 

Mrs. T. It's better she should not. The sight of her husband, 
pale, sick, and perhaps subjected to violence, might overcome 
her ; she knows nothing of the warrant we have for his arrest. 
I had to keep that from her too. 

Bur. [l. c] Ladies is rather chicken-hearted — all except 
you, ma'am ; you are the gamest I ever see. 

Dr. \_Crosses to him.'] Lead the way, we will follow you. 
Take my arm, Mrs. Ten Eyck, we won't forget our manners, 
even when we are in the woods. \^All exeunt, l. 1 e.] 


Scene II. — The old Convent ruins in St. Augustin. Alfred — 
child— enters mounted, L. 2 E,, on the back 0/ Christmas, and 
driving Guinea. 

Child. Get up there, get up! 

Guinea. Now, horsey, begin to kick, and young massa beat 
him. [^T hey gallop around.'\ 

Child. Whoa! whoa! 

Christmas, [r.] G'wan' away, you young niggah, you is too 
frisky for the chile. You tink little massa want fast horse al- 
ready ? No, Massa Alfred play wid ole niggah, old family hoss 
— no play — dere now, see me! [They play, Christ, takes reins 
in his mouth and leads round stage.~\ 

Child. You ain't fast enough. 

Guinea. \_Dances step or two.'] Dere ; didn't I tole you ? G'lang 
yer superranerated ole wooly hoss ; young massa want Dexter, 
me Dex.ter, first half mile in elebeu seconds, second half in four 
hours, here de gait, here we go, fine span of blacks. [^Gallop 
around again.] 

Child. Get up ! that's it. Get up ! 

Flora enters, l. 2 e., carrying sketch book. 

Flora. What a racket you are making ! Come to me, Alfred. 

Child. \^Bunning to /ler.} I'm tired. 

Flora, [l.] I told you so ; take him down to the water and 
let him sail his boat. 

Child. No, I'll go with you. 

Flora. Where do you want me to go? 

Child. To the river. 

Flora. \_Advancing down stage^ But perhaps papa wouldn't 
like it. 

Child. Let's run away, then. 

Goes to Guinea and Christ., loho run ivith him towards c, when 
Alfred enters, r. 2 e. 

Alfred. [^Nervously and half savagely.] Where are you going ? 
Guinea. Only down to the ribber, sar ! 
Christ. Dat's all, massa. 

Al. Give him to me. Have I not forbidden you to stir with 
him from this place ? Get oflf to your work — go ! [Christ. a7id 


Guinea slink off, giving a couple of steps of their dance for child, 
as they exit off l. Al. goes tvith child r. and sits. Flora sits by 
tree, L., and opens her book, then puts it down and comes to him!] 

Flora. Blame me. I told them to take him. I thought the 
fresh breeze would do him good ; see how pale he is. 

Al. You had no right. I must keep him again within the 

Flora. Oh, what a cross face. [^Stooping to child.'] Poor lit- 
tle angel. You wouldn't bury him in that gloomy place ? 

Al. If I can live there, he can. You took advantage when I 
was sick and brought him out; all that must stop now. 

Flora. Why, you ungrateful person! this is how I'm to be 
treated as soon as you get well, is it? After all my nice nursing; 
now, confess, wasn't I good to you, and did you deserve it ? 

Al. I didn't care what became of me. t wished to die; why 
didn't you let me ? 

Flora. \_Lightly, kneeling to child.] Oh, oh, oh ! I'm shocked. 
Come, Alfred, put your fingers to your ears, papa is saying 
naughty things — papa is bad, he won't have any friends. [Ftdl- 
ing child affectionately to her l. h.] 

Al. [Sadly.] No ! 

Flora. [Changing tone.] You can make them wherever you 
go, even here — ever such good friends, if you would but think so. 

Al. Yes, I can find more traitors to steal away my last happi- 
ness, the love of my child. 

Flora. [Kneeling by boy and at Al.'s. feet.] Tell me, little 
darling, would you not like to have friends? 

Child. I want mamma. 

Flora. [Looking up in surprise.] He speaks of her as if she 
were living. 

Al. So all children speak of the dead. 

Flora. And she ts dead — truly? 

Al. I told you truly. I have no wife. [Bows his head on his 
bosom.] She is dead. 

Child, [l.] Papa, mamma is not dead. 

Flora. No, darling! [Aside to AL] Let him remain in ig- 
norance. It is so cruel to undeceive him. 

Child. Shall I see mamma again ? 

Flora. Yes, my darling. [To AL] Let him believe so. [To 
child.] Yes, my darling, for a mother and child who love so 
much will surely meet again. 

Al. [Turning away.] Enough — speak no more of her. 

Flora. [Rising.] Now, I have wounded you. I did not 
mean that. I would make you happy if I could. [Child crosses 
to bank, L. H., and looks over pictures in portfolio.] 


Al. Learn this: for the dead we have tears — ^for those whose 
sin has killed them — none. 

Flora. She was unworthy, then — even of pity? 

AL \_Tone of agony.'] Peace, peace! do not wring my secret 
from me. If I should speak of her, I should go mad. The 
thought of her has nearly made me so, 

Flora. But she was beautiful — he remembers that. [^Points 
to child.'] Even beauty is forgotten. You men have hard hearts. 
[Sits next to him on hank.] 

Al. You have learned this, have you ? It is the cant of your 
sex, you begin early to adopt it. 

Flora. [Light, gay tone, tempered with occasional seriousness.] 
But you have.; don't tell me. All men think women ought to be 
as wise and as cold as they are. I couldn't be. If you had mar- 
ried me, you would have broken my heart, too. 

A I. What makes you think so ? You are different from her. 
Pshaw ! — what am I saying! — you are but a child. 

Flora. Oh, no, I'm not. I know I could fall in love — and 
when that comes, one is a woman. [Bises.] 

Al. [Ri-^es, takes c] Do not hasten that time. Keep it 
away from your life. 

Flora. [ Coquettishly.] For how long ? 

Al. Forever ! If you have to do as I do, fly from thfe world. 

Flora. But I couldn't, and you cannot. 

Al. [Gloomily.] Humph! 

Flora. [Mayfully.] Do you think that these ruins, this soli- 
tude, your gloomy looks can frighten away love ? If I were in 
love, they wouldn't frighten me. 

Al. [Smiling, rises.] You believe, then, love can do all 
things ? 

Flora. Everything, even to bringing a smile where it has not 
been seen perhaps for years. 

Al. [Still .smiling.] You could love like that perhaps? 

Flora. Ah, you smile still! And you, when you loved, was it 
not like this? 

Al. [Gloomily again, goes back to seat] Speak no more of 
the past. 

_ Flora. Then the future. Will you always be alone ? Not a 
single gleam of sunlight in the ruin there? 

Al. Nor here ! [Sits.] 

Flora. [Sitting beside him, taking his hajid.] Let me tell you 
your future? 

Al. It is not hard. 

Flora. No ; so you shall learn it all. One day you will be- 
come weary of this place — of all about you — of me ! You will 


say: "Good-bye, little friend," and you will go, I know not 
where, but some place where bright eyes and rosy cheeks will 
greet you. Away in the North — you will love again, you will 
marry, and I — [-Rises and takes c. sadly.^ 

AL \_Tenderly.'] Well, and you — [^She hides her face in her 
handsJ] Why, you are not weeping? [Draxving her hand 
towards him.~\ 

Flora. {Pettishly. '\ Let me alone, [l.] 

Al. [r.I Come — why these tears ? 

Flora. ^Pettishly.'] I'm not crying. {Playfully.'] Was I 
crying? Well, it was because I was foolish. {Laughing archly.'] 

Al. {Still tenderly.] There, the sun is setting ; you must re- 
turn home. I will go into my Timon's cave. Come, Alfred. 

Flora. I may come to-morrow ? 

Al. To-morrow? yes. 

Flora. And you are not angry with me ? 

Al. Angry — how could I be? 

Flora. Let me kiss little Alfred good-night. [Child runs to 
Aer.] There ! {Kisses him..] Good-night ! 

Child. Good-night. I love you. 

Flora. You love me — why ? 

Child. Because you make papa so happy. {Crosses to Al. 
Flora looks at Al., smiling, yet abashed, he takes her hand^ 

Al. I believe he almost speaks the truth. Good-night, little 
friend. {Exeunt, R. 2 E.] 

Flora looks after him; suddenly Fanny appears, l. 2 e., stands 
up stage, L. c. Tableau for a moment. 

Flora, [r.] If it Avere so. But he would despise me if I 
were to betray my secret. {Turns to go, confronts Fan., who 
stands motionless.] A stranger ! 

Fanny, [l.] To you, yes, but not to your thoughts. From 
that grove I have unwillingly heard all. 

Flora. {Naively.] Mercy on me! I thought* we were alone. 

Fan. Have no fear of me. 

Flora. {Dignity.] I have no fear of anybody. I am mistress 
of all this place, of the ground you stand upon. What should I 

Fan. Perhaps that the love which you have so badly con- 
cealed should be known. 

Flora. And if it were, where is the harm ? 

Fan. You admit, then, you love this man. 

Flora. I admit nothing to you. What business has anyone 
to question me or him? I am free to do as I please — so is he. 


Fan. [Scornfully.'] Doubtless, since he listens to you ! 

Flora, [r.] You speak as if you knew him. What do you 
know of him ? What have you to do with the matter at all ? 

Fan. Only to ask a favor, which, perhaps, you will not refuse. 
[Flora thoughtfully crosses L.] If your designs are upon him, 
they are certainly not upon his child. If one came who had the 
right to ask it, would you assist her to take away the child ? 

Flora. [Stage, L.] To take away the child he guards so well ! 
I know you now. You are one of those enemies whom he fears. 
[Turning short on her.] 

Fan. [ Wretched.] I am one of those enemies. 

Flora. [ Goes to her, tenderly.] You belong to his family, you 
are related to him ? 

Fan. I am his wife, the mother of his child. 

Flora. [Staiis back.] His Avife ! Oh, what have I done ? 
How mad I have been. O, forgive me — forgive me ! 

Fan. [Gazing sternly at her.] I do not regard you. I come 
only for my child. [Going towards R.] 

Flora. [Impetuously.] But you shall hear me. You come in 
time to save me from my own folly, to spare him a crime. But it 
was all your fault, why did you leave him? [Going to bank, l., 
sitting and burying her head in hands.] 

Fan. Ask why his mad unreasoning heart made him an exile 
from his home. 

Flora, [sinks on tree, L.] But it is dreadful, all this. If I 
were a wife I would not leave my husband unless a rival — but 
I would have no rival. 

Fan. [Approaching her.] And if he discarded you ? 

Flora. I would follow him wherever he went. I would find 

Fan. As I have done, and find another woman in my place. 

Flora. No, no ! [Starts up.] I will make my error good ; I 
will bring him to you. You shall see how good a friend I can be. 

Fan. It is useless, he will not see me. [Crosses to l.] 

Flora. [Crosses to R.] Let me but try. I know he loves 
you — because he does not love me. 

Fan. [r.] I only wish to see my child. 

Flora. [Running off, R. 2 E.] Wait here, I'll find him. 
[Returning.] You nmstn't hate me, I'm too little and too silly 
to hate ; there, I'll bring him to you. [Exits, R. 2 e.] 

Fan. [i^olus.] Will he see me? There must have been a 
Providen<?e directing my unwary steps that led me to this place. 
How still the air! Away from all the scenes that recall his 
anger — alone with me — perhaps the feeling of the old days will 
return, perhaps his love, not dead, but sorely wounded, may re- 


Vive. He spoke to that woman, but without a single accent of 
affection. Ah, if he had but paused before he disowned me, if 
he had but sought to knoAv the truth, this humiliation had been 
spared him and me. A footstep! I tremble! \_Retires.'\ 

Flora enters, followed by Alfred, they cross to bank, l. 

Alfred. My mind is ill at ease. What is this you have to 
tell? Speak quickly! 

Flora. How impatient you are! Sit down here. \_Leads him 
l.] Just as impatient as I would be if I were married and my 
husband, long-lost to me, were coming back again. 

Al. [l. by bank.^ You speak of feelings you know nothing 
of. I have trifled too long. To-morrow you shall not come. 

Flora. \Smillng sadly.^ To-morrow I will not come. 

Al. [l.] I must be left in peace, or I shall seek it elsewhere. 

Flora. You shall and I will help you to it. 

Al. Silly child, what jest is this? 

Flora. Proof, that even in these ruins — in this solitude, love 
can find you out. 

Al. \_Oiie step for ward. 1 I will hear no more. 

Flora. Only one word, and that the truest I ever spoke and 
the happiest for you. Little Alfred's mother is here. 

Al. [h., down.'] My wife! [Fas. appears.'] Fanny! 

Flora. Now I have made amends. \_Runs out, r.] 

Al. \_Looks around nervous and suspicious.'] You are alone? 

Fan. Alfred ! Have you no welcome for me ? [ Offers her 

Al. [l.] You have found me at last. 

Fan. Did you not know in your heart we must meet again ? 
Have you not thought in your heart: If she comes it will be 
2:)roof that she is faithful? 

Al. [His back towards her.] I have thought that you would 
find me out in time, because you wanted your child. 

Fan. Is it not your child that I love ? 

Al. I have no thought of myself. If you come, it is because 
you have a mother's instinctive love. All women have that, 
even the worst. 

Fan. I have no reproaches to heap on you; spare me now. 

Al. What should I say to reproach you? You see_ me an 
exile from home, a man dragged down by grief and sickness. 
What words of mine can add to your remorse ? 

Fa7i. [r., q^dte in front of him, throwing her arms about Ms 
neck.] Oh, Alfred, tell me that you do not believe me guilty of 
any sin. 


Al. \_Cahnly.'] I have said that I have no charge to make. 

Fan. But in your heart — in your own heart, you do not think 
me the vile woman you have made the world believe me ? 

AL [^Cabnly.l In my heart, I have tried to defend you. 
[^Releasing himself from her arms.~\ 

Fan. [Clasjnnff her hands in agony. 1^ And you will not say 
one word 'i 

Al. {^Petulantly.'] It is useless. I am not well. Even this 
is too much for me. \_Crosses to R.] Though I was willing to 
see you. [Music] 

Flora appears at r. with child, it runs to Fan. 

Child. Mamma ! 

Fan. My darling ! [ Clasps him, sinking on her knees. Al. 
stands c, looking away.] 

Child. 1 have loved you all the time, mamma. 

Fan. Did you think mamma would never come? All the 
nights long she has been praying to heaven for this happy 

Al. [r.] You might have been happy. 

Fan. [Stretches out one hand.] I thank you for this. 

Al. Come, bring him into the house. 

Fan. You will let me enter ? 

Al. [ L^ R.] I can deny you nothing with my child in your 

BuRRiTT steals in, c, rushes forward and snatches the child, which 
he passes to Mrs. Ten Eyck, who follows after him, accom- 
panied by Dr. Lang. 

Burritt. [c] Secure the child ! 

Al. [r. c] My God! What's this? A plot? 

Dr. Lang. [Interposing.] Be composed, we will do you no 

Mrs. Ten Eyck. Fanny, come away. [Al. glares at Fan.] 

Fan. [l.] As Heaven is above me, Alfred, I did not know 
of this. [Al. makes an angry dash towards her. Dr. inter- 

Al. Who are you ? 

Dr. I am a physician. 

Mrs. T. Charged with your custody. 

Dr. I have a warrant for your apprehension as an insane per- 
son, and must enforce it. 

Al. [To Fan.] This is your plot! You come to me like a 


Fan. I swear to you — 

Al. [r.] Silence ! would you have me strike you to my feet? 

Dr. Secure him ! 

Bur. seizes him behind. Al. struggles wildly, and is borne to the 
ground. The child cries : " Papa, oh, papa .'" and is held by 
Mrs. T. Fan. throws herself on her knees beside Al., who 
repulses her with gesture of scorn. 

Curtain, Quick. 


Scene. — Elegant parlors in the city house of De Witt. Time — 
Evening. Everything rich, gay and tasteful. 

Duncan and Grace enter in wedding-dress, l. 2 c. 

Duncan, [r.] Only a few moments more, and I shall be sure 
of my happiness. It seems to me it is not secure until I hear the 
words : " I pronounce you man and wife." 

Grace, [r.] Why you havn't anything to fear now, you 
frightened fellow ; here we are, the carriages are outside, the 
church just around the corner, and nobody in the world objects. 

Dun. Add, too: a couple of hundred invitations out, the par- 
lors lighted, supper down stairs, the music in the hall, and above 
all — my determination to be married, no matter who objects. 

Gh'ace. But it was so sudden after all, wasn't it? Button this 
for rpe, Harry. [ Offering glove.'] To think we took advantage 
of auntie being away and we left alone to ourselves. 

Dun. Then we had De Witt and Lu to encourage us. 

Grace, [l.] How nice it will be to ask Fanny to come with 
little Alfred, and live with us. Poor Fanny ! 

Dun. Do you know what I began to fear at the last moment ? 

Grace. What was it ? 



Dv.n. That Fanny's unhappy experience would frighten you 
from every thought of wedding me. 

Grace. Ah, but you are reasonable; you are not jealous. Sit 
down here. [^Sit on tete-a-tete, c] 

Dun. Yes, I am. I'm terribly jealous. If anybody else in 
trowsers were to fall in love with you — I don't know Avhat I 
wouldn't do to him. 

Grace. I don't mind that, that's nice ; but Alfred, you know, 
visited his jealousy upon his wife. 

Dun. Poor fellow, he's helpless enough now. 

Grace. If I were Fanny, I know what I would do. 

Dun. What would you do ? 

Grace. Take him away from his prison, for I know it's a 
prison; they may call it an asylum — but it has iron bars and 
great gates, too. I wouldn't let the father of my child be treated 

Dun. How can she help it? the law puts him there. 

Grace, [r.] No law can stand in the way of a wife's love. 

Dmi. Well, I blame Mrs. Ten Eyck for all this. 

Grace. No, you mustn't. Aunt Clara, I know, did what she 
thought Avas best. 

Dun. There is nothing personal in what I say. I 'shall have 
no mother-in-law, nor you neither. We are independent orphans, 
and if we quarrel, which heaven forbid, we shall make it up again 
easily by ourselves. 

Grace. And auntie mustn't come to see us after we are mar- 
ried ? [^Pouts.^ 

Dun. Oh, yes, as an aunt. 

Grace. But — [_Bises.'] 

Dun. Ah, rebellion — [^Rtses.l 

Grace. But I ought to look upon her as my mamma — not as 
a mere aunt. 

Dun. Remember you are going to be a model wife — wife of 
a clergyman — pattern to the parish, an awful responsibility. 

Grace. But I mustn't commence now, must I ? 

Dun. Yes, practice early — say " aunt " — come, that's a good 

. Grace. Just let me have a little of my own way now, only 
once before we are married. 

Dmi. [Looking at watch.~\ Well, that's just for ten minutes. 

Enter Mrs. Ten Eyck, r. c. 

Mrs. Ten Eyck. [c] My darling Grace ! 
Gi-ace. Well, auntie ! 


Mrs. T. [ With affection to Dun.l Oh, Mr. Duncan, my last 
daughter has gone, too. 

Dun. [l.] Why, what has happened to Fanny ? 

Mrs. T. Can you not understand ? \_Emhraces Grace.'] Have 
I not always looked upon you, Grace, as my own child ? 

Grace. Yes, auntie. 

Mrs. T. You need not have been so precipitate, my dear. All 
the time I was away I intended your young hearts should be made 
happy on my return, for I had already forgiven Harry. 

Grace. And Harry had forgiven you, too, auntie. 

Mrs. T. [c] Forgiven me ! 

Dmi. [l.] Say no more about it, my dear Mrs. Ten Eyck. 

Grace. And he will always love you as — 

Dun. As an aunt. I told Grace just before you came in, that 
as an aunt — 

Mrs. T. Thanks, my dear Harry. 

Grace. And when we build an addition to our house — 

3Irs. T. [Subdued vexation^ I shall be welcome, no doubt. 

Grace. Oh, yes. You can come and live with us, then. 

Dun. [Aside.'] I shan't enlarge it till I'm tired of life. 

Mrs. T. [c, ironically?!^ Ah, well, my loves, you will be 
happy. You are both poor, and therefore dependent on each 
other. You can't afford to disagree, so you will be happy, [r.] 

Grace. And if 1 should ever need a friend — a coyifidante — 

Mrs. T. Confide in Harry. Let no third person step between 
you. [Crosses to c] 

Dun. We won't. We shall keep so close together there won't 
be room. 

Mrs. T. I have but one word of advice. 

Grace. Yes, aunt. [Grosses to c] 

Mrs. T. Bear with each other's faults. It will be a hard 
task, I have no doubt, but it is the only way to have perfect 
peace. [ Goes ttp.] 

Dun. [Mock gravity to Grace.] I feel much chastened in 

Grace. [Same to Dun^ Bear with my faults. 

Dun. [Same.] Yes. I'll take half of them at once and we'll 
be an even match. What a little stab she gave us. 

Mrs. T. [Up stage near door~] Come, my dears, the wedding 
party is waiting for you. Ah, a few short years ago, how happily 
my children were married. [Advancing.] And then see how 
they suffered— what misery has been theirs. And, now, you are 
going to walk in the same path. 

Grace. Oh, dear, don't say that. 

Mrs. T. I mean you are going to be married ; you don't know 
what is before you. [Goes up.] 


Dun. [ To Grace, crosses to c] I know Avhat I should like to 
leave behind us. She is cutting us up. 

Mrs. T. [l.] But whatever betides, you have my sympathy. 
Come, my children. [Aside, going up.l I think I have repaid 
their impertinence. [Exits, c. and l.] 

Dun. [Going tip with Grace.'] What do you say now, Grace, 
to having her for a mother? 

Grace. I think that she had better be considered as an aunt. 

Dun. [Kisses her.'] Bravo ! [Exeunt, c. a7id i,.] 

Kemp enters, r. 1 e., goes c, looks off after party, then returns, r. 

Kemp. They are all gone. 

Fanny enters, r. 1 e., leaning on Mrs. Kemp. 

Don't be afraid ! Stop here a bit, Susie, and I can catch up to 
them — plenty of time. [ Goes up and comes down, R.] 

Fanny, [r.] You cannot tell how these lights, the bustle and 
the gaiety of the wedding preparations trouble me. 

Mrs. Kemp. There, you are nervous again. 

Fan. No, I am past that ; the feeling is cold and deadly — it is 
remorse. [Crossing to seat, c] 

Kemp. Remorse? Nonsense! Why should you feel re- 

Fan. [Sinks on seat, c] Everything seems clearer to me 
now. I see with anguish every hasty step, every false suggestion, 
every unwise counsel that I took. I retrace my short wedded life 
pace by pace, I say to myself: Here I might have stopped, and 
all would have been well — this I might have left unsaid, and 
now be happy. 

Mrs. K [r.] Let me paint a different picture, my love ; your 
husband was rash, self-willed, unthinking. 

Fan. Of whom do you speak ? I only see now a man broken 
by misfortune, dragging out a living death. If I turn from that, 
I see only the generous, loving, happy heart that took me for a 
wife — believed, trusted, and was deceived. 

Mrs. K. [l.] All is not yet hopeless. 

Fan. Day by day, they tell me so ; but they say no more. 

Kemp. Cheer up. Dr. Lang called on me only yesterday 
to say that Alfred Avas making most rapid progress towards a 

Fan. [Gazing calmly in his eye.] Do you believe Alfred 
was really mad? 

Kemp. Yes, the doctors — 


Fan. The doctors thought they had conclusive proofs of his 
insanity, because he fell into ungovernable rage when we took 
his child. What think you would I do, if men came to tear that 
child from me now? Sit smiling — talk reason — suffer the out- 
rage ; — or fly like the tigress in defence of its young — mindful of 
nothing but to save its own ? 
' 3frs. K. Then you believe — [l.] 

Fan. {^Rising.^ That every day he lingers in that prison is 
an outrage on justice. 

Kemp. Well, if I may be allowed to speak freely, I think 
your mother — For a more hard-hearted interfering — ! but there, 
Susie don't approve of violent lauguage, and I'm done. 

Fmi. What was I — the blindest tool that ever wrought un- 
--consciously her own destruction ! Swayed by a puff" of pride ; lis- 
tening to the devil of perversity. [i?ise*\] 

3Irs. K. [r.] And you have no blame, then, for your 
mother ? 

Fan. [c] No blame, save for myself; my mother's course is 
run. [^Throws herself in Mrs. K.'s arms.'\ Your words are vain ; 
only when he can hear me, can forgive me, shall I find peace. 

Mrs. K. [l.] What do you propose to do ? 

Fan. Liberate him, set him free, and ask him to choose what 
reparation he exacts. 

Mrs. K. Perhaps, after all, his request would be unreasonable. 
He might only ask you to refuse to see some man he did not like. 

Fan. You jest at my misery ? 

Mrs. K. No, I only see Edward Lynde coming this way, and 
the source of all the trouble flashed upon me. 

Fan. \_Drijlng her eyes.} If I asked you to let me speak with 
him alone, would you think it strange? 

31rs. K. With all my heart. [Kissing her forehead.'] 

Kemp. Certainly! we'll just be in time at the church. Come, 
Susie ! 

Mrs. K. [Aside to Kemp, as they go out.'] There is hardly 
any fear of leaving them alone now. 

Captain enters, c. and l. 

Captain. [To 3Ir. and 3Irs. K] What! Not gone to the 
wedding ? 

3Iis. K. [ Crosses to him.] Can't you get money enough to go 
to Salt Lake ? 

Capt. No — can't say where I could raise it. Why ? 

3Irs. K. Because I think you have done mischief enough in 
this part of the world. Don't look at me like a fool ; you know 


what I mean — and you ought to be ashamed of yourself to come 
here. Come, Sammy ! 

Kemp. All right, Susie, dear. [Exeunt, c. and L.] 

Capt. [Comes down, L.] That's a downright old-fashioned 
vulgar scolding. What can she mean ? [Sees FanJ] I beg your 
pardon ! [Recognizes Aer.] Why, Fanny, this is an unexpected 
pleasure. I feared you wouldn't be visible to-night, but I see, 
Grace's wedding. You couldn't resist, weddings are fascinating; 
and when a fellow is too poor, like me, to marry, he sees it done 
by others with peculiar zest. 

Fan. Edward, is it possible for you to speak seriously? 

Caj)t. [Eyeing her through glasses and aside ^ Broken up — 
deucedly broken up, or perhaps it's the dress. [Aloud.'\ Why 
I always talk sense. 

Fan. [c] If there be in your nature a single chord that vi- 
brates to the touch of remorse, listen to me. 

Capt [Sits.'] My dear Fanny, you may play on all the 
chords. I don't know if there's any tuned to remorse, but I 
think not. At all events I never use it. Come, don't look so 
doleful. Play a lively air. 

Fan. This, at least, you will bear in mind. In your playday 
world, among the toys with which you pass your useless hours, I 
have no longer a place. 

Capt. [Gets round, while speaking, to r. h.] It's the old doll 
and sawdust story over again, and I don't want to hear it. I 
can't go down into the tomb before my time, no matter how 
many agreeable young ladies ask me to come down a while and 
talk sense there. I'd rather give 'em a hand to help 'em out. 
Come, now, what do you say. Jump out and let's have a little 

Fan. [Half to herself.'] Is it possible I have permitted my 
husband's happiness to depend upon my encouragement of such 
a man as this ? 

Capt. Oh, your husband! You don't want that misery 
raked up again. If he's coming back, of course I'll go off again, 
but if he's not, why the same old plane of friendship, you and I — 
[Sits on arm of chair, puts arm about waist.] 

Fan. [Rises, stage L.] I tell you between you and me there 
is no longer any friendship — no past — no future. The step I 
should have taken once, I now take, late as it is — we must never 
see each other again. It is now^ my OAvn wish, not the command 
of a husband, and for that reason it is earnest and irrevocable. 
[Crosses to r.] 

Capt. [Rises, down c] Well, this is a riddle. 

Fan. [r,] They tell me that once before you kindled this 


flame of jealous misery, but that the victims fled from you and 
were saved. This time behold the end. 

Capt. Oh, I say now, I didn't steal your child nor put 
Adrianse in a madhouse. Don't blame me for that. 

Fan. I do not blame you, I j^ity you, and I implore you — 

Capt. {^Comes toward her, feelingly, L.] You implore me to 
see you no more? 

Fan. llndignantly.l No, sir! but to remember this: that 
soon every door must be closed against you, if it is known that 
you briug only wretchedness to its threshold. If you would 
have other friends, be warned in time. As for me, think of me 
no more. We are strangers henceforth and forever. \_Exlts, R. 
1 E.] 

Capt. I oughtn't to have let her preach at all ; she got an ad- 
vantage over me at the last. American women are pretty fair 
at intrigue, but they havn't the courage to carry it out like 
Frenchwomen. Perhaps they'll get it in the course of time. \_Looks 
at watch.'] Half-past, the wedding will soon be over. \_Draws 
on gloves.'] Just in time to join 'em, and give the bride a kiss. 
I wonder whose carriage I shall go into. \_Looks off.] By Jove, 
it must be De Witt's, for here they come. Havn't seen them 
since their last row. What a pair of doves ! 

Lu and De Witt enter, c. and l. 

Capt. Good evening, delighted I am sure. [Lu looks at him, 
and passes with averted head. He stands astonished, using glass. 
Lu sits, L., putting on gloves.] 

De Witt, [c] You see, the family is not disposed to smile 
upon you. 

Capt. [r. c] By Jove, you know, I'm very badly treated. 
Here's two houses gone. Where am I to go when I want to go 

De W. I've been thinking, Captain, that with the assistance 
of several large capitalists — married gentlemen — I'll start a joint 
stock company for your benefit. 

Capt. [r.] No ! 

De W. Name of company : " The Captain Lynde Joint Stock 
Relief Association;" object — to raise money enough to get Cap- 
tain Lynde married, and put out of the way. Every married 
man with a pretty wife will be sure to take a share. 

Capt. Good idea! Capital notion, old fellow. Try it! I'll 
drop around to your house every evening and talk it over. 

De W. No, I only talk business at my office; all my business 
acquaintances may call there — you understand ? 


Capt. Ya'as — think I do. What hour to-morrow will it be 
agreeable for you to have your nose pulled ? 

Lu. [Jumping up, ci'osses to c] Tell him anytime, De Witt. 
But don't try it by yourself, Captain; it's too much for one — let it 
out by contract. [ Crosses to R.] 

Capt. Haw ! I will. Bye-bye. [ Going up, c] I say, have 
you seen that lawyer lately — I think they call him Jitt. [Lu 
crosses to R., indignant.~\ Oh, you don't want to, either, I suppose. 
Made it all up. Well, but look out for Jitt, he's been runninor 
all over, trying to find you — better see him. [ Very mysterious.^ 
Bye-bye ! Don't forget Jitt — see Jitt. [Exits, c. and L.] 

Lu. [r.] I wonder you had the patience to talk to the booby. 

De W. What does he mean by telling me to see Jitt ? [ Com- 
ing to /ie?\] 

Lit. [r.] Some of his mischief. [Lovingly.'\ We have done 
with Jitt. 

De W. So we have. 

Jbu. You threw the law papers he gave you into the fire, 
didn't you ? 

De W. I did. When I looked at them, I saw it was a suit 
for divorce he had brought in your name against me, so I kicked 
him out, threw them in the fire, and then I went to find you. 

Lu. [Lovingly.^ The brute. I told him to see you and 
make it up. 

De W. Instead of which he was trying to make it worse. 

Lu. [Same.'] But we settled it ourselves, didn't we, love? 
How delightful it is for married people to trust each other! Can't 
they put all the divorce lawyers somewhere, and keep 'em where 
they won't do any damage ? 

De W. We will keep them outside of our doors, my love, and 
they'll never damage us. 

Lu. Isn't it perfectly splendid to make up again on the very 
day Grace and Harry are married ? It'll be like our own wed- 
ding. How nice it was of you to give them the wedding re- 

De W. I thought you would like it. I'm so happy, too. I 
must — I must have one kiss. 

Lu. Somebody's coming ! 

De W. Let 'em come ! 

Salutes her, when Jitt enters, c. from L., hi great haste, followed 
by Burritt. 

Jitt. Stop, I forbid it ! [Aghast.'] 
Lu. Oh, dear ! it's the horrid wretch. 


Jit Unhappy creatures ! What are you doing ? 

Burritt. I think they was hugging, governor. 

De W. Confound you ! What business is this of yours ? Get 
out of my house directly. 

Lu. Both of you. 

Jit. \_AdvanGlng, L. c] My afflicted friends, excuse my agi- 
tation ! But this very day I learned that you had come to town 
together ; that you were about to live together. My mind shud- 
dered at the awful consequences. 

Lu. [r.] What awful consequences ? 

Jit. Is it possible my letter to Long Island didn't reach you ? 

Lu. I havn't been there for a month. 

De W. Will you get out ? 

Bur. [l. h.] Don't go, governor ; you're in the performance 
of a moral duty. Don't go ! 

Jit. I won't ! 

De W. [r. c] You don't like to see us happily re-united, 
eh ? It's bad for business, eh ? Look here, sir ! [ Takes Lu's 
arm.'] And look here, sir ! [ivtsses her.'] 

Jit. Wretched couple ! Do you not know that you are di-' 
vorced? [Lu screams and faints on De W.] 

De W. Did you say divorced ? 

Jit. I said divorced. Here are the vouchers. You are no 
longer man and wife ! 

Lu. You little wretch! [To Jit., c] Do you mean to tell 
me that this paper divorces us ? 

Jit. I do ! 

Bur. Flattens the old man clean out, mum. 

Lu. Then there — and there — and there! [^Tears it] Now 
we are married again. \_Grosses to De W., throws arms around 
his 7ieck.] 

Jit [l. c] Stop! It's immoral! Tearing the papers won't 
do it. 

B^lr. [l., picking up pieces.] Besides being a felony for to 
destroy the records of the court. 

De W. [r.] My love, we're in a very bad fix. 

Lu. [r. c] Oh, what are we to do, what is to be done? 
[T^irns sudden to Jit.] You hear, sir ! What are we to do ? 

Jit Legal advice demanded. Consultation fee one hundred 

Lu. [Seizes him by collar.] I'll give you a consultation fee, 
tell me directly what is to be done ? 

Jit Ah, ugh! IChoking.] 

Lu. Come, now. 

Jit What are you to do ? Why get the decree set aside ? 


De W. [r.] How long will that take ? 

Jit. Two or three weeks. 

Lu. We'll have it done. [Sudden to Aim.] Go directly and 
do it. 

De W. Isn't there any shorter way ? 

Jit. None, unless you get married over again. 

Lu. \_To De W.'] We'll do it to-morrow. _ 

De W. We will, my love, and as for you, sir, leave the house. 
[CroHsmg , threats to Jit.'] 

Jit. [lu. c] You'll pay for this violence, Mr. De Witt. 
Burritt, you're a witness. Your wife, sir, choked me while you 
stood by consenting, aiding and abetting. 

De W. Will you get out, at once, or shall I do a little more 
on my own account? 

Jit. No, sir, you need not, sir ; come, Burritt, bring the frag- 
ments of the judicial decree. You'll hear from me, sir — I'll have 
justice yet, sir. 

De W. I hope so, and when you get it, I'll come and see you 
hung with pleasure. 

Jit. Ugh ! come, Burritt ! [Exits through c. and L.] 

Bur. [Steals back.] If you want a confidential agent, sir, 
one as can tell you the full extent of the villiany of that man 
Jitt in this matter — 

De W. Will you go out, or shall I call the servants ? 

Bur. Oh, no, sir! not on my account. Well, this is as un- 
grateful a crowd as ever I see. [Exits c. and off L.] 

Lu. [r.] It's too much. To think it should come to this ; 
to think I'm not married now after all. Lord, lord, De Witt, 
what's my name now? 

De W. I don't know, my love. 

Lu. I don't believe I've got any. [Goes wp.] 

De W. Come along, I'll give you one right off. It's not too 
late, we'll get married with Grace and Harry. Ha! ha! what a 
life of adventure. 

Lxi. Once divorced, twice married, and the last one a great 
deal better and nicer and funnier than the first. Come along. 
[Exeunt, c. and off L.] 

Jenny enters, l. 2 e., with child Alfred. 

Jenny. There's nothing more to be seen now. Master Alfred, 
they've all gone off to church, and it's time for you to be going 
up-stairs to bed. 

Child, [l.] I want to wait for mamma. 

Jenny. Your mamma don't go to weddings, my darling ; you'll 
see her before you go to sleep — here she comes now. 


Fanny enters, r, 1 e. 

Child. [Crosses c] I was waiting for you, mamma. 

Fanny. Yes, love. 

Child. May I stay up with you. I only want to say my pray- 
ers to you — then I'll go. 

Fan. Mamma will come up to you, darling, and when you 
pray, remember poor papa. 

Child. Come soon, mamma. {^Kisses her.'] 

Jenny. I found this letter for you, ma'am. I thought I'd 
bring it up. \_Give8 letter, then takes child's hand.] Come, pet. 
[Exits, R. 2 E.] 

Fan. [Sitting c] From Dr. Lang. [ Opening letter.] The 
only comfort left me is to read his cold but honest words. 
[Reads.] " I cannot say that you ought to come here to see your 
husband. His restoration to health is not far distant, but I beg you 
to wait until he is himself anxious to see you or the child. When 
that time comes, I am certain your meeting will be a happy one. 
Meanwhile trust to me as his friend and yours." [Lets letter fall 
in la]).] " Wait until he is anxious to see you or the child. When 
that time comes, your meeting will be a happy one." How I have 
prayed for it, until my brain, turned with hope and fear, con- 
jures up unreal visions of happiness, or pictures an everlasting 
despair. [Her head falls upon her arm, as she bows upon chair.] 

Alfred and Dr. Lang apjjear at back, from l. — they pause, see 
Fan. and converse. Dr.'s manner is that of a friend. Al. is 
calm and self-possessed. 

Alfred. Leave me for a little while, my friend, I will join you 
below. [Dr. retires, after %oarmly pressing Al.'s hand.] Fanny! 
[Advances, r.] 

Fan. [Starts up, L.] Alfred! [Scream, runs to his arms.] 
You are here. Free ! 

Al. [c, gently releases himself.] To-day I was strong enough 
for the first time to leave the doctor's house. — I have sought 
you, for I have a few words to say. 

Fan. [Gently bowing her head.] Speak, Alfred. 

Al. I know now that you were not concerned in taking my 
child by force. Dr. Lang has told me all that. For what! then 
said in my violence, I ask your pardon. [She sinks on seat.] I 
also know that my imprisonment was not your work ; — may heaven 
and you forgive me the unjust maledictions that I heaped upon 
you in my passion. 

Fan. I forgive you everything. 


Al. \_Bepressed emotion.'] You have my — our child. 

Fan. [Quickhj.l Let me bring him to you. [Buns B.., and 
calls off.] Alfred ! 

AL [r. c] Stay ! It is needless — I have not finished. In 
this paper provision is made for him and you. All I have I give. 
[Fan. sinks in chair.'] Thus, your future is provided for. This 
other pajier is signed by me, and needs only your hand. It is 
called a deed of separation. In it I renounce authority over you 
and him. It is the perpetual guaranty of your absolute freedom. 
[Going, c/J 

Fan. lEising.] These forms aflEi'ight me! You have not 
spoken of yourself. 

Al. Have I not made reparation enough? 

Fan. I ask none, I ask what is to become of you — my hus- 
band ? 

Al. [l., faltering and nervous.] I have not settled it at all ; 
my purpose is to find some retreat, where I can trouble you no 

Fan. [r.] What can I do — what can I say, to prove to you 
that I have loved you — that I have been faithful from the begin- 
ning to the end? 

Al. It is not needed ; I see clearly, the fault Avas mine ; it is 
best we should part. 

Fan. [r.] We cannot part. Say that you forgive me — say 
that you believe in my truth ! 

Al. [Points to papers.] Are not these enough ? The world 
will see in them confession of your honor, acknowledgement of 
my wrong against you. 

Fan. I want none of these. [Tears papers.] I confess every 
other sin against you — but I have been faithful in every thought 
and deed. 

Al. Be satisfied. I believe you to be as pure as the heaven 
above us. 

Fan. And you Avill leave me after that ? Tell me the promise 
I must make, the vow I must keep for the future, as the price of 
your returning love. For your child's sake you cannot leave me. 
Two lives — two futures hang upon a word ! Alfred ! husband ! 
I beseech you ! 

AL I have thought it all over. The past is like a gulf — from 
either side our arms stretch forth to meet in vain. What power 
can bring forgetfulness, and unite us in a new life ? 

Fan. [r. c, sinking on her knees, and botving her head.] 
Heaven, have pity on us ! 


Child runs in from R. E. 

Child, Why, it's papa ! Oh, papa! Have you come? [Al. 
with a cry takes the child up into his arms.^ Oh, mamma, how glad 
you must be ! [Al. releases the child, who runs to Fan.^ Papa 
will never go away again, will he, mamma? 

Fan. Pray to him, darling. [Al., after a struggle, turns and 
holds out his arms to her.'] 

AL Fanny! 

Fan. Alfred ! [ They embrace.'] 

Music. Wedding-party enter, headed by Grace and Duncan, 
Lu and De Witt following, Kemp a^id Mrs. Kemp next. 
Kitty Crosby, bridesmaids and gentlemen after. — Tableau. 










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